Gal Friday
by gorblimey2
Summary: Susan Friday has it all,including a loyal best friend, Finley. But Finley hates her new boyfriend, House. They have a past. Can Finley learn to like House-maybe just a little too much? Romance, humor,drama.
1. Chapter 1

**Dear Readers, The first few chapters don't have a lot of House in them, but then he's featured quite a bit. So hang in there. Gorblimey2**

**GAL FRIDAY**

**Chapter 1**

**Residency 101**

I hate Gregory House. I know mothers around the world will cringe—"Sweetie, hate is a strong word! You _dislike _him." But Moms, if you're reading this, let me make it clear, I _hate _Gregory House. Now, despite the fact that I've admitted it, I also have to admit that I don't think House did it. And that leaves us with the big question. Who did?

* * *

Susan Friday is the woman that when you are sitting with her at a club men buy _her_ the drinks and ask _her_ to dance while you sit there, hands folded, smiling as if it doesn't matter—as if you always come to these places to watch _Susan_ dance. We've known each other since med school where we roomed together from day one. Because of our looks, everyone thought we were related, although it was assumed that I was, in contrast to Susan, the ugly step-child. The comparisons were sure to happen when Susan showed up in our dorm room with her Louis Vuitton trunk and Bose stereo and declared that I needed a makeover. That makeover ended up making me look a little more like her than it should.

We 're both blond, mine just happens to be real. Her eyes are a gorgeous blue when she has her contacts in; mine are a gray-- sometimes blue (depending on what I'm wearing)-- with flecks of green around the iris. At 5'6", Susan is a few inches taller than me. Our features are petite, except mine are probably too petite in places where more would have been better. Susan had fuller lips, slightly bigger eyes and her breasts were a full cup size bigger than mine, but then, she got to pick hers out.

I'm not complaining. I'm not a double bagger. In fact, when I'm not in Susan's shadows, people tell me I'm very pretty and have a nice figure. But I blend into the wallpaper whenever Susan is around. Do I mind it? Yeah, I'm human, there are days when I want to push her into the dirt and stand on top of her. But, she is also very generous. In med school I basked in her fallout, whether it was castoff clothes, invitations to parties, or the guys she didn't go home with. One of my long term relationships was the result of being her wingman at a party. I ended up with the wingman of the guy Susan went home with.

Here's the clincher. Susan Friday wasn't just gorgeous and from a rich family; she was bright and articulate. We frequently jockeyed for the same position in our classes. It was always a tossup on who would rank higher. In the end I edged her out. I was 20th out of 230 graduates; she was 22nd. She took it well, even giving me a Louis Vuitton suitcase as a graduation gift.

I make Susan sound like a caricature of a rich bitch, but she isn't. Sure, she has her polyester moments, but in the end, this is a woman who committed herself to pediatric oncology, the worst of the worst specializations. Everyone knew that if you were going to treat kids with cancer you had to have a strong stomach and disposition. Susan did. I admire her for tackling it and doing well. Me? I eventually did my residency in surgery.

Susan scored Mass General for her residency. I did well for not having her connections. I found a place at UCLA in general surgery. Not having the money that Susan does, while we were residents, she was the one who usually caught the red eye out to California when we wanted to have a few days of fun together.

It was our first December as residents that she flew out and surprised me, showing up as I was making rounds. I turned the corner and there she was, standing in the company of two doctors and one intern, all salivating over her. I almost turned around to run but she saw me.

"Finley! There you are!" She turned to the men. "Excuse me, gentlemen." She gave them a sparkling grin and then turned in my direction.

I wanted to dive through the door next to me and hide under a bed, but I knew that behavior would just add fuel to the fire that was about to ignite.

She put an arm around my shoulder. "Hi, sweetie—oh my God! Why are you crying?"

"Nothing, it's nothing." I said as I swiped the tears under my eyes away.

She grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to the elevator. When we took it to the first floor we were in the company of three patients and a nurse so we said nothing to each other. The door opened on the first floor and she pulled my arm with such a force I had to go in her direction.

"Susan, you're hurting me!"

Pushing me through the door to the empty atrium, I stumbled out. Susan pulled my lab coat down so that I'd have to sit next to her on the bench outside. I looked around, as a resident working non-stop, I was not used to being outside . It was a fairly warm winter afternoon in California. The sky was bright and sunny with puffs of clouds flying east. I wondered if I had enough Vitamin K and D in my body to make good use of the sun.

I couldn't look at her or she'd know how upset I really was.

"Are we just going to sit here or are you going to tell me why the woman who didn't cry when Professor Gherig called her an idiot in front of the resident heartthob, Johnny Franklin, is crying now?"

I finally looked up. Her blue eyes were unusually blue from the contacts she was wearing. Her hair had been colored perfectly, giving her flawless, un-freckled skin a perfect frame. She was wearing a wrap dress that set off her small waist.

"It's one of the attendings here. He keeps ragging on me."

She rolled her eyes at me. "They're supposed to rag on you."

It was true. One of the time honored traditions is that once you're an attending you get to verbally abuse the residents about their abilities.

"No, not about medicine, about everything and anything."

"Like what?"

"Things like, "Your birth certificate is an apology letter from the condom factory." "Christ, when they gave you an IQ test it came back negative, right?" "If you want to impress me, just show up naked with a beer." "Don't worry, Finley, there's a cure for virginity and I've got it." It's humiliating. Over and over, constantly making rude and vulgar remarks in front of all the residents and interns. I'm the laughing stock of the hospital."

"That's sexual harassment!" Susan said, her jaw jutting out in defense of me. "You need to report him to human resources."

"_Everyone_ reports him to human resources."

She narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. "Well, you call my uncle, Winston Larabie, and tell him what's going on. He'll take care of you."

When Susan left the next week, I tried to brave it out, but then the attending screamed at me one night claiming I had prescribed the wrong drugs, when in fact, I hadn't prescribed any. It had been the Surgical Attending above me that had. But, it wasn't the fact that he screamed at me for that, but that he started talking about my breasts and what was between my legs. So I did call Susan's uncle who had already been convinced by Susan to represent me for free. After a few calls and an hour long interview by human resources, my problem was miraculously solved. The Attending was fired and the insults I received from the other Attendings returned to being about the practice—my practice—of medicine. I didn't mind their insults because, as Susan had pointed out, insulting residents was their job.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dear Readers: Just to let you know, I'm going to be gone from Sun-Wed on a short vacation to Yosemite to do some hiking. I'll probably post when I get back on Wed, but if not, I will on Thursday. So, I decided to give you an extra chapter today.**

**Chapter 2**

**Fast Forward**

"You promised."

"I said I would consider it if the opportunity ever arose. _I didn't promise."_ I leaned back in my chair, balancing the Mojito in one hand and the remote to the television in the other.

"Oh, for God's sakes Finley, put that remote down and talk to me. You said that if I could find you a position at my hospital, you'd apply. Well, they need another surgeon as soon as possible. You're overqualified, but the hospital is keen on bringing in hot-shots to improve the surgical department's reputation. You'd be perfect for that."

"Susan, I have a good job already."

"But, you're across the country in Los Angeles and I'm here in Princeton. Come on, isn't it time you stepped out of your comfort zone and did something extraordinary? It's been three years since you broke up with Teddy. You have to see him every day—you have to see _her_ every day. Doesn't that bother you?"

I sighed. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit, especially since they were married three months ago. I'd tried to put it behind me, the idea that my significant other who claimed he never wanted to marry _anyone_, suddenly dumped me after six years and ran off with a pair of double D's. Unfortunately, the double D's belonged to a surgical nurse that was often assigned to my operations. I felt like God was laughing at me.

"Of course it bothers me."

She moved her chair closer to me and leaned in giving me that cheeky grin of hers. "Oh, come on Finley; I miss you! We could have so much fun. I'm lonely. Keith might have been an ass, but at least he could be good company at times. I don't like being alone without a posse."

Keith was Susan's ex-husband. After four years of marriage and numerous affairs on his part (not to say that Susan was lilly white,) she had finally said 'enough was enough' and sent him packing. The pre-nup had been so air-tight that Keith received even less than the pre-nup provided, because, in the end, the court sided with Susan. Keith was given half of what he would have been entitled to because he violated the no-contest clause in the prenup. He walked away with $1.0 million dollars. Susan's personal trust fund was worth over fifty million, the family's trust was worth even more.

"I've got a great loft with three bedrooms. You can stay with me. We'll have a great time."

I looked at her and could tell she was serious; she desperately wanted me to join her, to keep her company and I really did want to start over.

I exhaled and looked up at the ceiling and into the future. "I'll submit my resume."

She jumped up and clapped, smiling at me as if she'd just won the lottery. As usual, Susan looked gorgeous in her gold palazzo pants and deep purple satin blouse. Despite the fact that she looked gorgeous, tasteful and ready for her closeup; the outfit had been chosen for lounging, she'd never go out in it. I sat in a pair of sweat pants, t-shirt and slippers—what I considered to be real lounging gear.

"Fantastic. Now, turn on Fox, I think that medical show is on tonight."

* * *

Susan's family had a large foundation that had already contributed over a million dollars to the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital pediatric ward. So when Susan personally delivered my resume to her boss, it was treated as if the Holy Grail had been plopped in their laps. I had an interview lined up within a few hours.

"I was planning on leaving tomorrow for Los Angeles." I balanced the telephone receiver between my chin and shoulder as I washed up the dishes.

"Can you make it in this afternoon for an interview?" The woman who had identified herself as Lisa Cuddy, asked.

"Yes, I suppose I can. What time?"

"Let's say three?"

"Fine."

I immediately called Susan to complain of the fact that I hadn't brought any appropriate outfits for an interview.

She started laughing. "Well, if you saw Lisa Cuddy's wardrobe, you could throw on some tight lingerie and a pencil skirt and fit right in."

"What?"

"Let's just say that everyone in the hospital have named her breasts Thelma and Louise. We receive email reports on how much freedom their enjoying each day."

"Is that appropriate?"

"Who knows? She's damn good at her job so I figure the board doesn't care if she runs around naked as long as she keeps up the good work. Anyway, you're welcomed to anything in my wardrobe, but you'll probably have to swing by the mall and buy yourself a pair of shoes. Your feet are tiny."

I spent half an hour scrounging through her designer clothes and finding a suit that fit me like a glove. I dressed and then, on my way to the hospital, pulled in at _Payless Shoe Stores _and bought some boring, but acceptable pumps. I had a hard time finding a parking spot, but finally grabbed one in the lower forty. Hiking to the hospital, I became acutely aware of why my new shoes only cost $19.99.

The hospital was a modern brick building without anything that set it apart from most modern brick buildings. Entering, I was a little surprised to find that orange was a major influence on the designer because a lot of the walls and accents were in a bright tangerine. It wasn't that it looked bad, it's just that most hospitals choose seafoam green, boring gray or tranquil blue to keep the inmates (patients) calm. Oranges and reds tend to excite people, something you'd prefer patients weren't.

I headed to the nurses' station and was told to take a seat, that Dr. Cuddy was on her way back. I was looking around when I just happened to look up to the next level and saw Susan waving and grinning at me. I waved back modestly and then folded my hands back in my lap. Within a few seconds Susan was down the stairs and sitting next to me.

"You look great. Shoes are boring, but adequate."

"They're killing me. As soon as I'm done, they're going to Good Will."

"Oh, there she is. Now, remember, you're too good for this place and she knows it."

I nodded.

Susan jumped up and disappeared as a very serious, but very petite, woman came over to greet me, hand extended. I quickly recognized that she was a fellow over-achiever who constantly felt the need to prove herself. I stood and shook her hand. I was a little surprised to find that her top was quite revealing and, from what I could see, her breasts were spaced rather wide apart. She didn't have the classic cleavage, but she was still very attractive.

"My office is over here, please follow me."

I followed her into a pleasant office that was neither spectacular nor unappealing. It was comfortable with a couch, desk, chairs and table. I was pretty sure that she would want to establish her dominance by sitting behind the desk and I wasn't disappointed. She pretended to be reviewing my resume, but I knew that a woman like Lisa Cuddy would have already committed it to memory and probably have checked out several of the past employers.

"You're at UCLA? That's a great hospital. Why do you want to leave?"

"I need a change, plus my ex and his new wife work there. It's a painful reminder of some rather bad memories."

"I see." She continued looking at the resume. "You're resume reads like a dream. You've trained with some of the best."

"Yes, I have. I also have a very good reputation myself, published numerous time, but then you know that, don't you? Dr. Cuddy, I know that you've probably talked to some of my previous employers and references. I have no doubt that they told you I'm worth every penny of what I want to be paid."

"What do you want to be paid?"

"I'm making $420,000. I'd want $435,000 and thirty days paid holiday each year."

I could see from some of the micro-movements around her eyes and lips that it was more than she had expected. But, I didn't care. I had a job, I didn't need this one. Yet, I had a feeling from what I had googled, that PPTH was trying to make a forward push into the world of transplants and I was not only a great cardiac surgeon, but quickly becoming one of the best transplant surgeons in the USA. She'd be lucky to get me because if I went private I could probably take in triple what I was asking, but then I'd have to set up an office, hire employees and pay for my malpractice insurance. I wanted to practice medicine, not be an administrator.

"Dr. Cuddy, I'm sure you recognize that I'm making a name for myself in Los Angeles. I get referrals from all over the United States. I was named the number one surgeon in Los Angeles last year and received numerous awards for my new cardiac transplant procedure. I'm worth the money, but if it's too much, don't worry, I won't be offended. And, I'll make sure that Susan and her foundation stay in your pocket."

She looked down and swallowed; a sure sign that she felt embarrassed. I had hit a nerve. She was worried about Susan's reaction if I wasn't hired.

"I need to consult with my board. We were willing to offer $375,000."

I winced. "Dr. Cuddy, for $375,000, you're going to get a third year cardiac surgeon or a very mediochre senior transplant surgeon. If you want to make your mark, you need someone like me." I paused and the grabbed my purse. "I'll let you talk to your board."

"Are you flexible on the thirty days paid vacation?"

I shook my head. "I think I'd be more flexible on the money than the time off. It's very stressful surgery, I need the downtime. I _earn_ the downtime."

Cuddy nodded and we talked for another fifteen minutes about the future of transplant surgery and what I was doing to stay abreast of the changes. I discovered that she was an exceptional woman, well up on new innovations and which ones she should invest the hospital's resources in and which ones weren't worth the effort. I thought we left on a good note. I knew that she wanted me; I just might be too expensive for her board.

I climbed in the rental car and kicked off the damn shoes. Driving back to her place, I decided to go through MacDonalds and get a soda. As I sipped my caffeinated diet Coke and drove back to the loft, I realized that Princeton was a very pretty town with its old University, parks and green grass. California was so brown this time of year. I liked the idea of being able to lie in the tall green grass and catch fireflies at night. I also knew that outside of my little bubble of a car was enough humidity and heat to turn my hair into streaming rivulets. Heat and humidity in the summer, cold and snow in the winter…did I really want to do this?

* * *

"Well?" Susan asked as she came through the door with several plastic bags of groceries.

"I think I've got the job if she can convince the board to come up with the money."

"Money?"

I grabbed two of the bags and helped her into the kitchen. "I asked for what I'm worth and she said I was $55K over what the board wanted to pay."

"That shouldn't be a problem; the Foundation will pay that."

"I don't want you to fund my job just so I can be nearby."

"If you're really worth that much, then it's right up the Foundation's Alley. We'll reap the benefit of stealing one of the west coast's most gifted surgeons and you'll get what you asked for. Are you going to accept?"

"Probably. I think I might just enjoy moving in with you and giving you grief."

"Bravo! I can't wait."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Susan's Choices**

Susan Friday had never known a day in her life without food or shelter. Her family was among the quiet rich that lined the Hudson River in New York and lived lives filled with invitations to important events. Originally into shipping, by the twenty-first century the Fridays had diversified so much that there was no longer one thing that defined the Friday Group. Susan had grown up beautiful, rich and smart. But, despite her outward bravado, she always felt as if someone was going to see her for what she was—not good enough.

Like many women before her, Susan felt as if she was a fraud and someday people were going to discover it. It meant that she spent years of her life trying to prove to herself and her influential family that she wasn't a fraud. She chose difficult classes, impossible men and a specialty that made most people wince. Pediatric Oncology had proven to be more difficult than she had imagined, not because of its technical requirements, but because of the emotional toll it was taking on her.

In her eighth year as a physician, she finally broke down and began a daily regimen of Zoloft and Buspar to control the depression and anxiety that had slowly crept into her life with each death of a child and each tear of a parent. Just when she thought she'd have to quit, Susan was recruited by James Wilson, an oncologist at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital (PPTH), to join the staff. It meant that she could spend half her time on cases and half her time in the classroom, teaching and thus giving her a breather.

They had met at a symposium, both fans of each other's work. She was fairly sure that James Wilson had seen symptoms of burnout in her and had offered the PPTH position as a way of saving one of the best in the field. _One of the best._ Just like Finley, she had risen to be the cream of the crop, but she knew only too well that if James Wilson had not thrown her a lifeline, she would have crashed and burned.

And now she had the chance to save Finley. Susan smiled when she thought of Finley moving to Princeton and staying with her. Finley hadn't recognized her own depression; but Susan did. It was obvious that the proximity of her ex and his new bride was taking a toll on Finley's disposition. A few weeks in Princeton and Finley would get her old spark back and Susan would have her best friend close by to ease her recovery from the dead back to the living.

Susan had been at PPTH for four months and was scheduled to start teaching in the fall semester which was scheduled to start in eight weeks. The hospital had a friendly staff and she had made some 'friends', the kind you could talk to and go for drinks, but not the kind that you tell your deepest darkest fears to. Only Finley was blessed with that honor.

The phone call came while she was in rounds. Susan stepped to the desk to take the call. "Hello?"

"They came up with the money—as if you didn't know."

Susan smiled to herself. The foundation had agreed to donate an additional $500,000 to the surgical department for department operations, i.e. salaries. It would give the hospital ten years of the difference between what they wanted to offer Finley and what Finley wanted. After ten years, Finley's department would more than pay for the extra, Susan was sure of it.

"So you took it?"

"Yes. I start in a month."

"Great!"

"Great?" Finley sounded anxious. "I only have a month to shut down a profitable practice, sell my house and move!"

"I could fly out and help."

"You better." Finley said with conviction.

"I have to go, I'll see you tonight."

"No you won't. I'm taking the next flight back to Los Angeles to get the ball rolling. I need all the time I can get."

"Fine…I'll fly out in a few weeks to help you pack. Now, have a safe trip…and get a haircut. The one you have is crappy."

"Oh, good God! I'll see you in a few weeks! Bye!"

Susan gave out a little squeal of happiness and then grabbed the next file.

Two weeks later Susan flew to Los Angeles to find a manic Finley running around town trying to put her life in order so that she could move. Susan took over the packing and the sale of the house so that Finley could concentrate on shutting down her practice. A week later Susan flew home and cleared out a room for Finley. She also arranged for storage of Finley's furniture and possessions in a storage facility.

When Finley arrived, Susan could see that she was exhausted, but she still had a big smile on her face when she saw Susan. The fact that Finley was beautiful inside and out was lost on Finley. Susan and just about anyone around Finley could see it, but not Finley. Susan knew that she was classically prettier than Finley, probably even beautiful, but Finley had something inside of her that made everyone feel safe around her. It was an attractive quality, especially in a cardiac/transplant surgeon.

"I'm so excited that you're here." Susan bubbled as she hugged Finley.

"I am too. I wasn't looking forward to this two weeks ago, but now I am."

"Tomorrow night I've invited some of the staff from PPTH over to meet you. Cuddy is coming and so is my boss. You'll like them."

"Oh, boy! You move quickly. Well, let's get home."

Finley liked the two bedroom, 2,500 square foot, penthouse loft. Finley's bedroom was the mirror image of Susan's and more than ample in size. Both bedrooms had full baths. The remainder of the loft was completely open except for a half bath and a small, but adequate office. The kitchen was modern with all granite counters and high end appliances. Two French doors off the living room exited onto a large balcony overlooking a local park with a large pond and then a view of Princeton. Finley walked around the new digs, trying to find the mail boxes and where all the exits were in the building. The loft had a washer and dryer, but there was another two commercial sets in the basement for the residents. After getting the cook's tour of the building, Susan made a salad and the two friends sat down for an evening in front of the television.

The next morning, Susan woke to find a summer storm brewing outside. She got up and wondered if Finley was up. She didn't have to check the bedroom; she could already smell the coffee brewing. It was like old times, Finley, an early riser, would already have breakfast ready.

"Morning!" Finley called out as Susan crossed the room towards the kitchen.

"Ugh. How can you still be so perky in the mornings?"

"I just am. I made biscuit sand gravy for breakfast."

"Oh, I love you! I haven't had biscuits and gravy since…your house two weeks ago."

Finley grinned at the sarcasm in her voice. "Yeah, but you love it."

"I know! But, my figure doesn't."

"Who's coming tonight?"

"I invited James Wilson and told him to bring a friend. Lisa Cuddy will be flying solo so I invited two more doctors from work, Kale Chopra and Michael Torino. I also invited my new best friend, Matilda Kosinsky, my hairdresser."

Finley raised an eyebrow and rose to the bait. "Best friend?"

"Well, you weren't around, so I had to culminate a new one."

"Oh, really."

Susan put an arm around Finley and gave her a sideways hug. "Don't worry, nothing can replace you."

"Yeah, remember that, especially since I have access to your food source."

Together they spent the morning bicycling around Princeton. Upon returning, Susan grabbed her shopping list and they went to the grocery store to pick up the food for that evening. They decided on beef bourguignon, egg noodles and a side crab salad. Susan already had a large selection of wine in the wine cooler. She chose several: a2001 Barolo Bricco Rocche, Ceretto; a 2007 Two Hands Wines Shiraz Bella's Garden Barossa; and a 2007 Mantazas Creek Chardonnay Sonoma. All were good wines, none were over $100, but all were destined to please the palate.

At six, they both went back to get ready for the party. Susan picked out a well-draped purple jumpsuit with a crisscross halter top and flared legs. She garnished it with large hoop earrings and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Applying makeup and perfume, Susan then slipped on some comfortable gold sandals. The mirror didn't lie; she looked sexy and sophisticated at the same time.

Walking across the hall, she wanted to see what Finley was going to wear, knowing that she'd probably have to make some substitutions to her outfit. Opening the door, she stuck her head in, finding Finley drying off from her shower. She didn't attempt to cover up; they were like sisters and had seen each other nude on numerous times. Susan noted that Finley's figure was a little thicker around the waist and she didn't have the inverted heart shape butt that Susan had, but Finley's breast were definitely superior. They were high, round and a healthy C cup.

"Damn, you have great knockers." Susan lamented.

"Yeah, I do. Now what do you want?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Oh, you already want to work your magic? You haven't even seen what I'm wearing!"

"Doesn't hurt to get in on the ground floor. Come on." She motioned for Finley to show her.

"Jeans and a shirt." She picked them up from the bed and watched as Susan frowned.

"What else do you have?"

Rolling her eyes, Finley motioned for Susan to come on in. Once in, she opened her closet and held up a hand, "Be my guest. I'm going to put on underwear unless you'd like to choose that too?"

"No, just make sure they aren't granny panties."

After a minute or two, Susan shook her head. "Don't you have anything that can show off those two assets of yours?"

"You mean my brain and beautiful voice?"

"That's it. Come on…my bedroom."

They went across the hall where Susan dived into her closet and pulled out several hangers of clothes. In the end, they picked out a sleeveless white blouse with a deep V and a pair of black Capris that hit just below the knee. Susan applied makeup lightly on Finley's face and eyes. Finley put on a coat of coral lip gloss and then added a pair of long teardrop black earrings.

"Well, am I ready for my close-up?"

Nodding, they laughed.

Dr. Chopra showed up first and assured Finley that he was not related to Depak Chopra. They all had a glass of wine while Susan went into the kitchen to stir the pot. Finley followed her to get the appetizers and so they could have a quick whisper.

"He's good looking, huh?"

Finley nodded. "Yes. He's very nice too, which means you have no desire to jump his bones."

Susan grinned and shrugged. "Can I help it if nice guys do nothing for me?"

"What about your boss?"

"James? He's a nice guy too. Only, he's not as nice as Kale; he comes up with some racy comments from time to time. Besides, he's bringing someone and I'm not sure if it will be male or female."

"And this other doctor, Michael?"

"I don't know him too well. There might be hope."

The doorbell rang and Susan hurried to answer it while Finley took the vegetable tray out to the coffee table. There were noises from the front door, both male and female before they wandered into the living room where Susan made the introductions.

"You already know Lisa, but this is James Wilson, my boss."

Finley liked what she saw. James Wilson looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties with nice brown eyes, brown hair and a very acceptable body. He was dressed in a crisply pressed purple shirt and deep brown slacks. He looked very handsome.

"Glad to meet you, James."

The doorbell rang and the remaining guests joined them.

Susan and Finley took the drink orders and stood pouring them on the kitchen island. Susan looked up at the group in the living room who were all engaged in lively talk. As she gave Wilson his glass of wine, Susan asked, "I thought you were bringing someone?"

Lisa spoke up, "Yes I thought you were bringing your famous roommate?"

"He is coming. He was late getting home from the Collegiate Pillow Fight Contest. He'll be up in a few minutes."

Susan turned to Finley, "James lives two floors down."

"Oh."

Michael turned out to be slightly odd making strange segues from topic to topic. It was obvious that he was brilliant; he was just not that comfortable in social settings. Lisa Cuddy took him on; making it her burden to keep Michael entertained. Half an hour later Susan asked if she could serve dinner even though the final guest had not shown.

"Don't wait for him." James said, somewhat annoyed. "He'll catch up."

"Your roommate is the talk of the hospital." Susan said.

Lisa Cuddy sighed. "He's the bane of our existence."

Susan and Finley exchanged amused glances.

Dinner was served and, just as they were all ready to eat, the front door opened and slammed shut. Finley, whose back was to the front door dropped a piece of lettuce in her lap, looked down and picked it up before turning to see who had come in.

"It's about time!" Wilson scolded.

"Sorry, but my favorite hooker called and asked if I needed a back rub tonight."

Susan spoke up, "Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm—"

"You're the hottie that Wilson keeps jerking off to in the shower."

It was the voice that sent chills down Finley's spine. She recognized it even though more than a decade had separated them. Closing her eyes, she began to shake her head.

"Oh, God, no. Please don't tell me…" Eyes still closed, she turned in her chair and opened them. Susan was now standing by their new guest, welcoming him. She had stopped because of Finley's odd behavior.

"Finley?"

Finley opened her eyes and felt the blood drain from her head. It was him. He was older, more disheveled and he carried a cane, but she recognized him easily. Her whole world started to whirl around her.

Gregory House grinned mischievously as soon as he recognized the woman who had turned around in her chair. He had to admit, she was more woman now with more curves, more character in her face and a certain air of confidence, but she was still the woman who had hired an attorney and forced his departure from his second position at a hospital when he was second in command of the infectious disease department.

"Finley, what's wrong?" Susan asked.

Finley pushed away from the table and asked in a terrified voice, "Please tell me that House doesn't work at PPTH?"

Lisa Cuddy stared at Finley. "Yes, he's worked at PPTH for over ten years."

There was a guttural sound that escaped from Finley as she attempted to stand. Her knees were wobbly so she sat back down.

"Well, well, if it isn't little Finley Doyle. " House said with a delicious sneer.

Susan looked at Finley. "Do you two know each other?"

House continued to grin as he walked to the open chair across from Finley and sat down.

Finley sighed. "Oh, I'll never forget when we met. I keep trying, but I can't forget."

"Ouch." House said, pretending to be wounded. "So, have you turned your dogs loose on any other doctors?"

"Nope. I've only had to sic them on you."

"Sorry to disappoint you but, as you can see, I managed to land on my feet."

No one was eating, everyone was transfixed, certain that someone was going to fly across the table and strangle someone.

"Finley, how do you know Greg?" Susan asked as calmly as she could. She knew Finley and had never seen her so distraught .

Finley looked down at her plate and tried to calm herself. "He worked at the hospital when I was a resident in surgery. He sexually harassed me to the point that I had to hire your uncle to confront the hospital about his behavior. The hospital fired him."

Susan's eyes grew wide. "Oh my God! It was Greg House?"

Finley nodded. "And now I'm going to be working at the same hospital again."

There was dead silence as everyone contemplated what this meant. Lisa Cuddy sat back in her chair and stared forward into the air. She realized that, without knowing it, she had just dropped the atom bomb in the middle of the hospital. Her two prized physicians, the two that she was hanging the future of her career on, hated each other. Could it get any worse?

Wilson fidgeted in his seat. Talking in a low voice he leaned into House, "House, please behave. Remember that you're a guest."

House announced very loudly, "I wasn't the one who got fired."

"You were a pig!" Finley shouted. Looking around, she saw the looks of shock and embarrassment. Taking a deep breath, Finley stood up. "I'm sorry, Susan, I have a really bad headache. I hope you all forgive me. I think I need to lie down."

There were some mumblings of approval and then Finley took off down the short hall to her room. Closing the door behind her, it dawned on her that she had just left one hospital to get away from one asshole only to end up in a hospital with an even bigger one. At least her ex didn't _try _to make her life miserable at work, he only did so by proxy. Angry tears finally came to her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. She had a one year contract and she was going to make it work and then she'd find a new job.

The door opened and Susan slipped inside with a plate of food. "I know you don't have a headache, that you're avoiding House—actually we all know that—but I thought I'd bring you a plate of food."

"Thanks, I'm really hungry."

"I better get out there, but we'll talk more later." She tried to encourage Finley with a smile. "I'm really sorry."

"It's my own fault. I should have done my homework. Go ahead, get back out there."

Susan left ; joining the group at the table. Finley turned on the television and watched a little tv. Occasionally she heard loud peals of laughter and the general murmuring of a dinner party. She was happy that she didn't cause it to break up. After an hour of watching television, Finley felt her eyes closing. Before long, she was asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Hell on Earth **

As I was coming up from a fretful sleep, which included dreams of Gregory House harassing me, I felt as if someone was in my bedroom. So when I opened my eyes, I sat straight up and looked around. Sitting at the bottom of my bed was Gregory House with a piece of cake on a plate. Susan's friend, Matilda, had brought the intricately decorated devil's food cake over for dessert.

"Jesus Christ!" I instinctively put my arms over my breasts.

"You do know that you're fully dressed? Although I must admit the cleavage is a nice touch."

"What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"Sitting on your bed eating a piece of cake."

"You know full well what I'm talking about."

"I just came in to get away from that Matilda Kosinsky." He pretended to shudder. "Brrrr. She's a big flirt. Normally I like that in a woman, but she's too intense to really appreciate my delicate nature. I figured no one will bother to look for me in here."

"But there's only six people out there. Aren't they bound to notice that the great Gregory House is missing?" I don't know why I didn't just scream or throw him out right away, but I was curious as to what could possibly be his logic for leaving a small dinner party to come and sit on my bed.

He shrugged as if he didn't care and then used his fork to cut off a bite, offering it to me. I was struck by how handsome he was, more handsome than when I was a resident despite the fact that he was definitely older with wrinkles around his eyes and even deeper wrinkles on his forehead. His gorgeous brown hair had thinned into a dark gray and silver with just a hint of the old brown that used to grace his head in his youth. He had a long face with a nose that fit perfectly, but had been broken near the bridge at some point in his life, giving him a slightly flat spot and a questionable reputation. Everyone always commented on his gorgeous eyes; they were big, blue and capable of piercing your very soul. On the other hand, his eyes were also cold and spiteful. I wasn't as impressed with his eyes as I was with his body. It was long, lanky and even with the awkward limp, somewhat graceful. I had to admit that if it weren't attached to Gregory House's brain, it would be just my type.

"I wouldn't eat anything off the same fork as you if you offered me a night with George Clooney."

"George Clooney? Well you're no Jennifer Lopez, are you?"

"Would you leave?"

"Sure. I just wanted to see if the brat had matured into a bitch. Looks like she did."

"Fuck off. Just get out of here."

"There's the spirit! I knew the bitch would come out if I encouraged her. Didn't take much, did it?"

I clenched my teeth and was about to scream when all of a sudden he jumped up and hobbled out. Around eleven I heard the last of the voices leave and within minutes Susan was sitting where Gregory House had been.

"He's quite a character, isn't he?" She said with an almost teenage glee.

I sat up and stared at her soberly. "He's a dangerous jerk. A real pig. Don't go getting any ideas about him. Do you understand?"

She grimaced. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. What happened was ages ago. You have to admit that men change."

"Not that one." I stopped and watched her smile to herself. "Oh my God! You _like_ him?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to putting us in the same sentence together, but he's the most interesting person I've met so far in Princeton. He's supposed to be some medical Sherlock Holmes, a real genius—absolutely brilliant."

"I don't care if he's Einstein; you can't get involved with him. You'll regret it. _I'll regret it." _I could see that my warnings were like pissing in the wind-she wasn't listening. I realized that I had walked into my own version of hell. Not only was I going to work with this man, but he lived two floors below me and more than likely he was going to be sniffing around my best friend. I was screwed.

"Tell me about him."

"I just did. He's the devil incarnate." I kept shaking my head, hoping that by doing so my warning would get through.

"Oh you do exaggerate. What did you think of James?"

"Handsome. Nice. Too nice for you to be interested in him."

Susan gave me one of her naughty grins and then flopped herself down on the bed, head on the pillow. "I was thinking that James might be up your alley."

"I kinda fancied Michael."

We both started rolling with laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Friday's Nights**

My first day at the hospital was uneventful as first days go. I spent it filling out paperwork, meeting several board members, being assigned a locker and taking tours of the facilities. After lunch, I met the surgical staff, observed an operation and called it a day. When I arrived home I made a quick dinner for Susan and waited for her to come home. She didn't. Around nine that night, the door opened and she waltzed in giving me that smile that said she had just been with a man.

"There's chili in the refrigerator and homemade rolls on the counter," I said without getting up.

"Sorry, but I was asked out for dinner to discuss a patient."

"I presume you have a cell phone."

She cringed. "I know, I know. But, we were talking and I just lost track of time."

A chill ran down my spine. "It was House. You went to dinner with House and didn't want to call because you knew I'd disapprove."

Susan blushed and tried to look away, but I managed to hold her gaze. She finally nodded. "He showed up this afternoon and asked me to help on a case involving a twelve year old. We went out to dinner, I looked at the file, ruled out cancer and then we just talked."

"How long did it take to rule out cancer?" I asked knowing that it couldn't have been long and if she could do it without running additional tests, then House already knew it wasn't cancer—he was no dummy.

"Ten minutes, maybe more."

"You do know that it was a ruse. House didn't need you to tell him it wasn't cancer. First, he already knows how to diagnose cancer and second, his roommate is an oncologist. He's either interested in you or in screwing with me or possibly both."

"He told me that he doesn't hold it against you that you got him fired."

"Bull. Gregory House is notorious for being a manipulator. He'll extract his long simmering revenge now that I'm back on his radar. I have a feeling his payback is getting to me through you. For him it's a win-win situation. I get upset and he gets a hot girlfriend."

"You know, guys do fall for me without wanting a pound of flesh from you."

"Not in this case. You've just tangled with the original flesh eater."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head with obvious disbelief. "He's funny, sexy and brilliant. Stop trying to make him into a monster. Maybe he's changed since you knew him."

"You must be joking. A man like House doesn't change."

She held up her hands. "I can see we're going to have to agree to disagree on this." She marched to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer.

One weekend and we were already fighting. I needed my own place.

She looked at me. "You're thinking about moving out! Aren't you?"

Damn I hate her sometimes; she knows me too well. "Look, if you're going to be bringing Greg House home, then I need to find new digs."

Her mouth fell open. "My God, you're really serious. You really don't like him that much?"

"No, I _really, really_ don't like him that much."

I guess she finally realized that, for once, I wasn't going to give in on this subject. She threw her hands into the air and shrugged. "Okay, _if_ I go out with him, I won't bring him back here."

"Yeah, that will last a few days."

"No, really. I won't bring him back here. Now, do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night?"

"You don't have a date?"

"No date."

We went out Friday night to the movies and then to dinner, ending up having drinks and dancing at a local club. It was fun. We laughed all night long at both our past and the strange men around us. I hadn't felt so relaxed in years. Susan and I always seemed to play well off of each other. In fact, we often finished each other's sentences. I wasn't even as close to my own siblings as I was to her.

The following week was exciting. I was assigned my own cases and had to attend several faculty workshops for the classes I'd be teaching at PPTH medical school. I spent a few days reviewing texts to see which one I wanted to use in my class. On Friday, I received a visitor, Marilyn Swift, the previous instructor of my course who had retired after being diagnosed with brain cancer. She was a class act and even gave me her syllabus and class notes. I wanted to hug her…I did.

I fixed up my office by purchasing a kidney shaped desk with a matching credenza and a short bookcase. The desk was a gorgeous burl with a matching set of chairs for visitors. I picked out a Herman Miller Aeron chair for me. On the walls I put up my Ansel Adams photos of Yosemite, my favorite place on earth. I have to admit, it made me miss California.

Susan practically ran into my office, perky and excited, her eyes lit up and a glow to her skin. She had on a pair of black slacks and short sleeved blouse. Plopping down into one of the chairs she grinned at me.

"Want to go to dinner tonight?" She asked.

"Sure. What's up with you?"

"Nothing?"

"You're like a puppy with a new toy. What's going on?"

"_Nothing!"_

The sigh that escaped from my mouth was long and deep. "You have a date, don't you? You get like this when you meet someone new."

She slumped down in her chair, her eyes looking down at her hands. "I'm going out with House tomorrow night."

I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling. "Ahhhhhg." I took a deep breath. I knew if I insisted that she not seem him, she'd just do it behind my back. Susan listened to no one but herself. "Fine. It's your funeral."

"I had James Wilson ask me today if you were seeing anyone."

"Me?"

Nodding she leaned forward. "He thinks you're brilliant."

"I am brilliant."

"Want to double date?"

"No way. I like James, but no way do I want to be around House."

The next night there was a knock at the door. I could hear the water running and knew that Susan was still in the shower. Looking at the clock it was seven, probably the time that House said he would pick her up. My stomach started to turn when I realized that I was going to have to answer the door.

I peeked through the little peephole and saw him standing in the hall. Opening the doo,r I motioned for him to come inside. He had on a designer t-shirt with a sports jacket perfectly cut for his tall body and a pair of dark jeans that made his legs look even longer than they were.

"No date tonight?"

I shook my head. "No date."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Look, House, just come in, sit down and wait. Susan's still getting ready."

"We have reservations at 7:30pm." He moaned looking down at his watch.

"Sorry, but I'm not her keeper."

He said nothing, sitting down on the couch he looked around. "This is all her taste right?"

I nodded.

"Makes sense. It's very sophisticated, like she is."

"Yeah, well you're right. Would you like something to drink while you wait?"

"What have you got?"

I walked over to where the alcohol was kept. "Looks like we have a full bar."

"I'll take a Scotch."

I poured him a Scotch and handed it to him. He didn't bother to thank me. When I sat down he leaned forward and asked, "Are you looking for a place of your own?"

"Why?" I asked defensively.

"Nothing. I just didn't think you wanted to be around me." His blue eyes were playing with me.

"Oh, and so you think you're going to be around for awhile?"

"I think I have a good chance. You better start your search."

"Susan's smarter than that. You're just the flavor of the month."

"Want to make a bet?"

"No."

We both settled back into silence. Finally, I just had to ask, "How old are you?"

He looked surprised at the question. "Fiftyish. Why?"

"Why is a fifty year old man living with his friend? Why don't you have your own place?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I just moved here. I plan on buying something as soon as escrow closes on my house in Los Angeles."

"I was having hallucinations from my addiction to Vicodin, ended up in the nut house for six weeks. My shrink wouldn't let me out unless I could prove that I wouldn't be left alone to my own self-destructive devices. I relapsed and he still thinks I shouldn't be left alone—not yet."

I was shocked, alarmed at the thought of Susan going out with a nutcase. She walked out to the living room in her sexy dress, sling back heels and dangling earrings, looking fresh and beautiful. House smiled at her.

"Did you know he was institutionalized for hallucinations and Vicodin abuse?" I yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at House.

The look I got back said it all. She looked at me as if I was the crazy one. "Of course. Everyone at the hospital knows. Besides Greg and I discussed it in detail at dinner the other night."

The wind whooshed out of my sails. "I can't believe you're going to date this loser." I looked over at him and he had a roguish grin. I ran out of the room, once again slamming my bedroom door like a teenager.

I didn't want to stay home so I checked on my laptop and discovered that there was a movie I wanted to see at the local mall. I decided to go early to grab something to eat before the movie. I ended up at the food court and got in line at Panda Stix, the fast food Chinese. As I stood in the line staring off into space I heard a voice coming towards me.

"Finley? What are you doing here?"

I looked up to find James Wilson walking towards me with a coke in one hand and a plate of tacos in the other. He was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, looking very handsome and relaxed.

"I was just going to get a bite before the movie."

"Movie? Which one?" He said as he waited with me in line.

"Uh, the George Clooney one."

"Oh, that's supposed to be good. Mind if I eat with you?"

I nodded and asked, "Are you here by yourself?"

He nodded. "Yes, with House out of the way, I thought I'd do a little shopping and then I got hungry."

"Did you buy anything?"

"I bought some clothes and dropped them off in the car. I was thinking of hitting a few more stores before going home."

It was my turn and so I ordered the Kung Po Chicken and a diet coke. We found a table near one of the windows overlooking the east parking lot.

"This looks romantic." I said motioning to the view.

He chuckled as we sat across from each other playing with our food. "So, I never thought someone like Susan would go out with House."

I stopped chewing. This guy obviously knew House, knew what he was, and yet he chose to be his friend, his roommate. "Why do you say that?"

"She seems bright, normal, not damaged."

"And House likes damaged women?"

"No, damaged women like House. House likes women, especially if he doesn't have to pay for their company."

"You mean he pays…he hires hookers?"

Wilson shrugged. "He's careful! He always uses protection."

"It makes sense. He's not exactly warm and fuzzy."

Wilson scrunched his face. "That's not necessarily true. House has his vulnerable side. He just encases it with this armor of sarcasm and vulgarity."

"Why are we talking about House?"

Wilson smiled. "I agree. It seems I spend a lot of my time defending or babysitting him."

"Well, you could just say, 'no.'"

"I know it's hard to believe, but I like the guy. He's my best friend."

I shook my head. "Friend? He's vulgar, anti-social, manipulative and cruel!"

"He can also be funny, generous, wise and vulnerable."

"I'm sorry, but that's very hard for me to believe."

He grinned as if he understood my skepticism. "I know. It takes some time to get to really know him."

"But, from what Susan tells me, he's almost human around her."

"Because he wants her to like him. He must be very attracted to her."

"I think he wants to get back at me for getting him fired. I think Greg House has a long memory."

James leaned forward. "He has a very long memory and I'm sure that he loves tormenting you, but let's face it, Susan is beautiful, smart and wealthy. She's the trifecta."

I laughed. "I'm reminded of it every day. Why didn't you ask her out or did House beat you to it?"

"Oh, I thought about it when she first arrived, but I am her superior and it's just not a good idea to date people you have to review."

"I agree."

He took a drink and looked at me, taking a deep breath for courage. "But, I don't review you."

I blushed from the inference.

"I'm sorry. That was a little brash." He apologized.

"Oh, no. I blush easily when I like someone." I said looking down at my plate. "Would you like to go to the movies—dutch."

"I think I'd like that."

We finished our meal and while waiting for the movie to start talked about the things everyone talks about when they first sniff each other out. Still, James had a way of making me feel that my history was interesting. I found myself relaxed around him. I just wasn't sure that I was that sexually attracted to him. He was handsome and I had no doubt that he was generous in bed, I just wasn't feeling that spark. Still, I was old enough to know that you didn't always need that spark to have a good relationship or even to have good sex. So, I didn't think twice when he asked me out for the following weekend. I said, "Yes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Make Room**

Susan didn't show up until noon the next day and from the look on her face, she was a happy camper. Finley was doing her laundry, separating the whites from the darks, when Susan twirled her way into the loft like a punch drunk ballerina.

"So, did you float up the stairs from their apartment?"

"Oh, no. We spent the night at his place."

Finley was confused. "His place?"

"Yeah, he keeps a place on Baker Street, the one he had before he went into Mayfield."

"And?"

"More than adequate for a man of his age-a couple times last night and once this morning."

"No! I mean what does the apartment look like?"

She started laughing. "Goes to show where my mind went. I swear he was one of the better ones I've had."

"I would expect the devil to excel in carnal knowledge."

Susan grinned at her reference. "Oh, Finley. Give him some slack."

"Sorry, I'd rather keep him on a tight leash."

"That's what he said last night."

"Ewwwww…."

Susan giggled and went to her bedroom.

* * *

There were times when he was too blunt. Like the time he told the waitress his lunch smelled and tasted like dog food. Sometimes he was vulgar, telling Susan that when he went down on her, she smelled hot and raunchy. And then there were the times when he was cruel for the sake of being cruel, like when he told her that Finley's cleavage was superior to hers. But, despite all that, House could be charming, playful, frank, funny, serious, brilliant and hot…really hot. Susan was smitten, but she wasn't in love yet. There was something that kept her from going over the edge. Maybe it was knowing that Finley hated him or maybe it was just that he was too brilliant, too sarcastic, and too vulnerable in his own way. But then she realized it was probably because he was so damaged. The knowledge that he had so many demons boxing it out inside of him put her off. He seemed to have it under control since being out of Mayfield, but in the back of her head she wondered if he was going to fall into the rabbit hole again. That kind of vulnerability was scary. Her mother was also mercurial, unable to control her own demons. From day to day Susan never knew how her mother was going to react. Some days she would be motherly, playful, loving and then she would plummet off the face of the earth into a dark abyss that led to either total apathy towards Susan and her brother or a pure evil banshee, screaming and punishing them for minor infractions.

Still, Susan was addicted to the fun and the sex. House provided both and since her divorce, fun and sex had not come in the same package until now. The fact that she wouldn't let herself fall in love with him didn't faze her or keep her from enjoying House. There was time and maybe with time she'd feel more comfortable with the idea.

James and Finley began dating and seemed to be enjoying each other's company, but within weeks someone from James's past had come back into his life and he stopped calling Finley. She was disappointed and, from her frequent trips to the freezer to get ice cream, Susan knew she was hurt too. But Finley never said anything uncomplimentary about James. Quite the contrary, when House made a comment about her being dumped she said very calmly, "I know James is a good person and he had to follow his heart. I respect that and hope the relationship works."

"Yeah, right." House said sarcastically.

But Susan knew that Finley meant it. Finley had a bigger heart than most people which was why her hatred of Gregory House made Susan think twice about the relationship. Finley was no saint, but she always tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, the second chance, the other cheek. But when it came to Gregory House, her objectivity flew out the window.

"I'm going to look for a place so that you don't have to keep going over to House's to be together. Besides, I've been here for three months; it's time I moved out."

Susan was visibly disappointed. She loved coming home and giggling with her friend over a glass of wine. They had always managed to work, play and live well together. Neither was a Felix nor an Oscar. Chores were divvied up evenly and each accepted responsibility for the home like an old married couple.

"Do you have to move? I really enjoy having you here."

"I know, I do too. But I really do need my space, my things, my décor. I'll try to find something within walking distance so we can still be close."

"Wait! I just saw a note on the bulletin board next to the mail boxes that said a unit is for sale here in the building."

"Isn't that a little too close?"

Susan shook her head. "Not for me. If I had my way you wouldn't move."

"You're a masochist."

"Come on, let's check it out."

"All right."

They took the elevator down to the mailboxes and checked out the notice describing the apartment for sale. It had the unit number, 2C and a realtor's name and phone number. When they went down to the apartment, which took up the south side of the building, they discovered it was open and vacant. Stepping inside, Susan was sadly disappointed. The views, mostly of other buildings, were pedestrian. The flooring was a cold marble, more fit for a manor than a loft. The kitchen was ultra modern, which Susan knew was not Finley's taste at all. It had one large bedroom and one smaller bedroom. There were also two baths that reflected the ultra modern look of the entire flat. Susan knew the décor was not going to be popular with Finley.

"Finley, it has so much potential!" Susan gushed in the hopes of persuading her friend.

"Potential, yes, but definitely not my style."

"Okay, but it's empty and you're staying with me right now. You could renovate it; turn it into what you want while living with me just a few floors up. It's perfect."

"It depends on the cost."

"Most of us in the building purchased when prices in the area were at their highest. I think you can get this for a really good price."

"I guess it will depend on how long it has been on the market."

It turned out that the unit had only been on the market for three days, but the owner, a gay professor at Princeton, had been hit while riding his bike to work and killed. His family was looking for a quick sale to pay off some of the estate debts. However, Finley ended up in a bidding war with another prospective buyer. Finley dropped out at $629,000, nine thousand above the original asking price. The other bidder got the loft for $629,500. After looking at other places for a week, Finley received a phone call from the broker stating that the buyer had been unable to obtain financing and the owner was now willing to sell it to Finley for $629,000.

"I've seen other units I like just as much if not more, but I would enjoy being close to my friend so I'm willing to offer you $590,000."

The real estate market was taking such a big hit, that the comparisons in the neighborhood were falling like paratroopers out of the sky. They eventually settled for $603,000, a good price and one that offered Finley the opportunity to make the improvements that she wanted at some point. In the end, Finley made very few improvements other than painting and window treatments. The apartment, a show place, was not her taste but it was updated and had all the latest amenities. She decided to wait until the real estate market recovered before doing anything that would involve investing thousands of dollars in the property.

"I thought you were going to tear out the kitchen and put in one you liked?" Susan asked when Finley mentioned she had the movers coming.

"Not a very wise move in this market. I can live with it for now."

"Well, Greg is excited that you're moving and is willing to help."

Finley knotted her forehead, "He limps. How is he going to be of any use?"

"Comedy? We could hand him a large box and watch him wobble and eventually fall over."

"That might just be worth it."

On the day of the move, House loaded trolleys and, because he was able to balance using the handles, was of actual assistance to Finley. On his first visit to the loft, he opened the door and whistled. It was a beautiful loft, cold, sterile in its modernity, but beautiful. He was surprised that Finley had chosen it. The large fireplace was framed in multi-colored Italian glass tile. The white marble floor had to have been well insulated to prevent the downstairs neighbors from complaining of the sound, still, there was a hardness to the floor and a hollow clipping sound as they walked across it. House knew that the sound would be muffled as soon as the room filled with furniture, nonetheless, House thought, the sound was cold, uninviting.

Finley could see House's confusion and suspected that it had to do with the décor. "It's not my taste."

"Then why buy it?"

"Location, location, location. I can keep an eye on you and Susan." She said half-jokingly. Finley rarely spoke to House when he came to pick up Susan and rarely saw him at the hospital. Whenever he needed a surgeon, he went to others. For some reason, they had reached a wobbly truce.

"Still, it doesn't really look like you at all."

"I'm going to try and warm it up."

"That's going to be difficult. This is a piece of art, not a home."

Finley actually agreed with House, but was determined to turn it into something livable. "You know you don't have to help me move."

"Are you kidding? This is the best day of my life. I'm moving in with Susan as soon as you move out."

Her stomach knotted. _"What?"_

"We talked about it last night. I'm going to move in with her."

She threw down the box she was carrying and ran up to the penthouse. Susan was packing up her CD's and DVDs. Finley pushed her shoulder back and clenched her fists by her side. "You can't do this! Don't let him move in with you!"

"He's just moving in while Wilson's family is here. His niece is taking a course this fall at Princeton and will be staying at the loft with Wilson."

"But, he has his own place!"

"His doctor hasn't given him the okay to live alone."

"He's not a child."

"Look, we have a deal… the minute he becomes a nuisance I can kick him out."

"Susan, you're going to regret this."

"Maybe, but he needed somewhere to go."

Susan watched as Finley shook her head and started to cry. "You're making a mistake."

The doorbell rang.

"That must be the movers wanting to know where you want the stuff from storage." Susan said in a harsh tone, still upset that Finley would be so pigheaded.

Finley sighed and answered the door.

Susan heard Finley talking to the movers and then there was silence as they went down to her apartment. Susan closed up the box and looked around the eerily empty bedroom and was more than glad that House was moving in. She really didn't like living alone, especially after her crappy divorce. Her ex had an uncanny way of making Susan feel both unworthy of love and of being unsafe. Their divorce had made a huge splash across the society page when it was revealed that he received so little of Susan's fortune because of the pre-nup. He had retaliated by telling the whole world that she was a cold calculating bitch that frequently ran along Boston's shore to attract men. Although it was true that she ran along the shore, it was simply to clear her mind and keep fit. After seeing the article, her father called and told her that she needed a body guard if she was going to go out and run in public because every asshole in the world looking to make a buck would be out to kidnap her. Susan stopped running and after all the publicity about her net worth combined with her declining ability to handle pediatric oncology, she decided she needed a change. Along came James Wilson and the rest was history.

They spent the day moving Finley in and unpacking. House put on his iPod and helped unpack books, putting them on the deep cherry bookshelves in the second bedroom. He purposefully placed himself out of the line of fire, sure that Finley and Susan would go to war over the fact that he was moving in with Susan. However, instead of arguing, the apartment was strangely quiet. A thick, impenetrable silence hung between the two women. House kept himself occupied reading the titles of the books Finley owned. About half of them were related to medicine. The other half consisted of a mixture of fiction and non-fiction, a lot of titles which he owned. He was surprised that they had so much in common when it came to their taste in literature. In fact, when he opened the box of DVDs to put on the shelf, he had to laugh. It could have been his box that he was opening. There were a few, _When Harry met Sally, The Little Shop Around the Corner, Gone With the Wind, _which would never be a part of his collection, but still, she owned _Donny Darko, Saving Private Ryan, Dirty Harry, The Enforcer _and dozens of movies that he owned too.

When she came into the bedroom she caught him studying her photo album. Looking up, he decided not to hide it. "You were a cute kid."

The compliment caught her off guard and, with some fluster, she asked, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Beer?"

"I bought some _Flat Tyre_, is that okay?"

He nodded. She brought him the beer and a piece of pizza that had just been delivered along with some napkins.

He held the album up. "Where's this taken?"

She walked around and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, that was taken in Guam."

He nodded. "I thought so. We were stationed there for eighteen months. It's Talofofo Falls, right?"

"Yes! We were stationed on the Naval Base for two years. My Dad was a doctor in the Navy."

He smiled. "Navy brat."

"You?"

"My Dad was a Jar Head…pilot."

"Impressive."

"Not really."

Susan joined the two of them to look through the album as it went chronologically through Finley's life, finally catching up to the college and med school years.

"You two look like sisters…you know the hot one and the nerdy one. Bet you can't guess from this one who's who?" House pointed to a photo where Susan was sunbathing on a balcony and next to her was Finley in a pair of boy's gym shorts and a large t-shirt. Finley rolled her eyes.

House turned to Finley. "Are you still a virgin? Because I—"

"-Have the cure. Yeah, you used that on me when I was a resident. And yes, Susan has always been the hot rich one and I'm the poor ugly sidekick."

"You're not ugly." Susan offered Finley.

House grinned. "And just to prove you're not ugly, I'd like to invite you for a three way with Susan and me."

Now Susan rolled her eyes and slapped House upside of his head. Finley and Susan left to go out to the living room to hang some of the art.

"I told you he was funny."

"Offering a three-way with me is your idea of being funny?"

Susan giggled. "Yes, it is. I mean, you wouldn't do it so we both know it's a joke."

"Maybe I would."

"Right and George Clooney is going to ask me to marry him tomorrow." She smiled at Finley and whispered, "You don't know what you're missing."

"Are you offering him up for a quickie?"

"If she isn't, I am!" House said from the doorway.

"Sorry, but he's all mine." Susan warned.

"Yes, and I think they have an ointment for that." Finley said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Not Sure Why**

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. Fall classes started and Finley found that she was a damn good instructor. Her classes started out two-thirds full and, unlike other courses, she only lost one student in the first two weeks. The buzz on campus was that she made the class entertaining and informative, that she was strict, but fair. By the time her first evaluation was completed by the class, she was scoring a high four out of a perfect five.

It was a good thing that she had her class to look forward to because she no longer had much time with Susan. House, now firmly entrenched in Susan's loft, occupied most of her free time. Although Susan had tried to carve out a day or two each week for time with Finley, House always managed to find a way to cut it short or monopolize Susan when they were all together.

It was obvious to everyone that House did it out of spite, but he did it so skillfully that there was no way to call him on it. As a result, Finley and Susan spent most of their time together within the four walls of PPTH on lunch breaks. Occasionally, they managed to grab drinks together or a movie when House had a patient that made him stay late.

Susan felt guilty most of the time. She had persuaded Finley to move to Princeton so they could be together and then "House" happened. Finley was lonely and Susan could tell. After several months of long hours at had no friends in Princeton and so Susan decided to hold a party so that Finley could meet some single women she might be able to befriend.

When House heard that he was going to have to spend a night at his own apartment, he balked. But when he heard it was because five single women were going to spend the evening at Susan's apartment, his wheels began to turn.

"Come on in!" Susan opened the door and allowed the two average looking women inside. Bottles of wine were presented to Susan and the appropriate introductions were made. Finley, who had spent the last half hour in the kitchen putting together the barbeque chicken salad and garlic bread, smiled and waved at everyone from the kitchen island.

Drinks were poured and dinner served around the coffee table. Susan was excited; Finley and Emily Fredrix seemed to have hit it off and were laughing quite a bit. Elated at their obvious connection, Susan was ebullient, joking and having a good time.

"Susan, you're a glutton for punishment." Catherine Smith said. "I don't know how you hooked up with House of all people."

Susan groaned. "Et tu Cate?"

They all laughed.

"I'd like to see it from your point of view, Susan, but I just can't get my head that far up my ass!" Matilda said.

Everyone laughed and then there was a voice from behind them, a male voice.

"Keep talking, one day you'll say something intelligent."

Susan's shoulders dropped at the sound of his voice. "Greg. What are you doing here?"

"My heater is broken. It was freezing. I'll just hole up in the bedroom, watch some television."

Susan was obviously disappointed and aggravated. "Finley was going to sleep in our room with me since we turned the guest room into an office."

"That's fine with me as long as she doesn't snore. I'll warm the bed for her."

Finley rolled her eyes and stood up to take her salad bowl to the kitchen just to get away from House. "Suze, it's okay. I'm not feeling that well anyway. I think I'll call it a night and go downstairs."

Susan jumped up and stood in front of Finley, whispering, "Just stay for a few minutes ,okay?" Then she turned to House. "Can I see you in the bedroom?"

"You can see all of me in the bedroom. If any of you care to join us, the door will be unlocked." House said over his shoulder as he followed Susan into the bedroom.

Within seconds the yelling started and within fifteen minutes the women had all cleared out except for Finley. She cleaned up the dishes and straightened up. As she started out of the apartment she knocked on the bedroom door. The screaming stopped and Susan opened the door.

"Everyone's gone. I've done the dishes. If you need me, I'm downstairs. Good night." Finley started towards the front door.

"Fin?"

Finley turned to face her. The frustration and disappointment Susan saw in her face caused Susan to wince.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'll come down at nine and take you to breakfast, okay?"

"No, I don't think so. For now let's just enjoy what we have…lunch."

"Finley, please! I'll be down at nine and we'll go to breakfast…please?"

Finley could hear the desperation in her voice and couldn't say no. "Fine. I'll see you at nine."

Turning she left and trudged back to her apartment where she had a glass of wine and then went to bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Breakfast Delayed**

It didn't surprise her that there was no knock on the door at nine, but when ten rolled around and there was still no knock and no phone call, she started to get angry. The least Susan could have done was called and cancelled. In fact, it was so unlike Susan to just blow her off that Finley decided to call and give her a piece of her mind. Susan didn't pick up her cell. She tried the land line but got a busy signal. By eleven Finley had decided to give them both hell and so she marched up the three floors and banged on the door. No one answered.

"Susan?" Finley called out. There was no response. Finley decided that she would leave a message so she went back down to the apartment and grabbed her key to Susan's apartment and went back up. Opening the door, the alarm started to beep. She plugged in the code and it stopped beeping, but then there was the sound of a voice in the bedroom. It was House's.

"Susan? Susan? Susan?"

The panic in his voice scared Finley, she ran down the hall and threw the bedroom door open. At first she didn't realize the screaming was coming from her until House screamed back.

"_Shut the fuck up and call 911!" _House paused and the screamed again. _"Now!'_

Finley took out her cell and dialed 911 as House pressed his fingers to Susan's throat to find a pulse. Finley had to sit down. The blood from the wound had soaked through the sheets and had begun to run down the side of the bed and onto the floor.

"Is she breathing?" Finley asked after hanging up. Making her way over to the bed, she pulled the sheet down. Her friend was opaque, her frozen face contorted in pain.

"Barely. Her pulse is thready and she's lost a lot of blood. Where the hell are the parmedics?"

"Why did you do this to her?"

"Me? I didn't stab her! Christ, I just woke up and found her like this."

Finley didn't know what to think. Her best friend had a butcher's knife sticking out of her chest and her boyfriend had slept through it? It didn't make sense unless it was her boyfriend who had stabbed her. Finley continued examining Susan, noting that the handle of the blade was pulsing with the beat of Susan's heart.

"Christ, I feel helpless." House said.

"Just keep pressure around the wounds to slow the bleeding. It may not be in her heart, but her lung, she's slightly blue around her lips." Finley felt as if she was in a movie, time and everything around her seemed to be passing in slow motion.

They heard the sound of the ambulance as it pulled up to the building. Finley let the paramedics into the apartment. "In here. Don't touch the knife; we need to get an x-ray to see if it can be removed without first cracking her open."

The paramedics turned into the bedroom. "Holy mother of God! That's a lot of blood. She's still alive?"

House and Finley both nodded. House, who had been placing pressure around the knife backed off to let the paramedics take her. The blood began to flow until the paramedic put pressure to the area around the wound. Finley wasn't sure why, but she asked the paramedics to hand her a needle and tube to take a sample of blood.

"I can't do that lady."

"I'm a cardiac surgeon, Doctor Finley Doyle, this is Dr. Gregory House and that's Dr. Susan Friday."

"I recognize Dr. House." The one with a distinctive New York accent commented.

"Then give me a vial and a needle, now." Finley growled.

The paramedic fished around and handed it to her. Finley turned to House and motioned for him to give her his arm as they moved Susan onto the gurney.

"House, I need a sample of your blood, now."

House was concentrating on Susan and unaware that Finley was talking to him. Finley slapped House across the upper arm. He turned, his eyes flashing at her in anger.

"What?"

"Blood, I need to take a vial of your blood now."

"Why?"

"Look, you just need to trust me on this."

House stared deep into Finley's grey eyes and finally nodded. Finley found a vein and pulled blood for testing as the paramedics rolled Susan out the door. Susan ran to the refrigerator and grabbed some ice, threw the ice and the tube in with it. She could hear House arguing with someone about accompanying Susan to the hospital Running back into the bedroom, she found two police officers standing and talking to a nude House while a photographer took photos of the crime scene.

"Who are you? " A voice behind her asked.

Finley turned to find a woman with a badge on her suit coat.

"Finley Doyle, Susan's best friend."

"Ms. Doyle, I'm Detective Hampson. Why don't you come with me out to the living room while this gentleman gets dressed."

Finley almost corrected her, letting her know that House was no gentleman, but realized that this wasn't the time to joke around, even if she meant it.

Finley went with the detective out to the living room. "Detective, I'm a surgeon that specializes in the type of surgery that Susan needs. I really need to get down to the hospital. Can we talk about this in the car? Can you give me a police escort to the hospital?"

The detective accommodated her once a phone call was made to PPTH. Finley rode in the officer's car, sirens blaring all the way to PPTH. On the way down, Finley gave the detective the short version of events-- the fight the night before, the promise to go to breakfast, the failure of Susan to show up, Finley's entry into the apartment and discovery of Susan's wound and House trying to stem the bleeding.

"You said that you had to turn off the alarm, right?" Hampson asked.

"Yes, the alarm was set and I had to disarm it when I came inside."

"Hmmm." The detective said.

She knew what that meant. It meant that House was the main—no—_only_ suspect. Finley had to admit, she wanted it to be him. She wanted him to be out of her life forever, but her gut said he didn't do it. Her gut was pretty loud.

"Detective, I don't think House did it. I'm not a fan of his, but he's not the kind to up and stab someone. He's much more the torture you into submission type."

"Maybe she wouldn't submit." The detective opined.

"No, their relationship wasn't like that. He's an ass, but not a bludgeoner."

* * *

When we got to the hospital, I immediately slipped the zip lock bag to a very nervous and anxious Cuddy who had met us at the front door. I whispered into her ear. "This is House's blood. Run it for every drug that could knock you out and keep you from hearing someone in the room with you."

Cuddy nodded without saying anything to tip off the police who were following the two doctors as they ran down the corridors to surgery only to be met by the chief of police who had his hand extended in a 'stop' motion.

"I'm sorry Dr. Doyle, but we can't let you perform the surgery."

Cuddy's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"I'm sorry, but Dr. Doyle is a suspect. We can't let her have a second shot if she is the attacker or co-conspirator."

"I'm _not _going to kill my best friend! I'm going to save her!" I pushed past the idiot and started to scrub in the prep room.

He yelled through the door. "How do we know that you weren't jealous of Susan? That she managed to steel Dr. House from you or you wanted him for yourself?"

I heard Cuddy started howling with laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry. I know this is serious, but if you only knew how much House and Dr. Doyle hate each other."

"Dr. Cuddy, get out of my way. I need to stop her."

I heard what sounded like a bit of a struggle with the door pushing in slightly and then closing again.

"I'm afraid you can't. Dr. Friday has less than fifteen minutes to live. They're opening her chest as we speak. Dr. Doyle is her _only_ hope. If you stop it, you'll be the one guilty of murder."

The sounds of struggle stopped and I continued until I was ready to enter the operating room. When I got inside the operating room, I looked up to the observatory and saw the police chief, Dr. Cuddy, the detectives and several others including James Wilson.

My assistant, Dr. Robert Chase, shook his head. "She's lost a lot of blood."

"Yeah." I immediately went to work suturing a bleeding nick to the right anterior ventricle. I then repaired the remaining wound around the heart. It took me two hours to do it properly and to find all the damage. I was focused, unable to let myself even think about who was under my knife. The minute I started thinking about Susan, I could feel my focus leave me and my hands started to shake.

"Finley." Chase said calmly. "There's another bleeder."

His voice brought me back and I focused once again on what I was doing. "Yes. I've got it."

We patched her up and sent her to recovery. I walked out of the surgery and immediately a detective grabbed my elbow. "Could you come with us? We need to talk to you."

"Look, I'm in no condition to be interviewed. I need some rest."

"I'm afraid we really need your help. We need you to sign the statement saying that the alarm was still set when you entered."

"Why such a hurry?"

"We want to arrest Dr. House. His fingerprints were on the knife."

"Of course they are, he examined her and the knife to see if it could be removed."

"Well, that's one version."

"He didn't do it."

"How do you know?"

"Dr. House is a real jerk, a total asshole, but he's not a violent man."

"Oh really? Are you aware that he hit his own employee? He's hit others too. And he's been hit several times by others. And he's been arrested for drugs before."

"Yes, but that's not the same as intentionally thrusting a knife into your girlfriend's heart, is it?"

"We just need your signature."

"Fine."

I went to the station and of course they spent an hour interrogating me despite my protests that I wanted to go home and sleep. In the meantime, Greg House was arrested. I saw him being removed from a room in handcuffs. He looked over at me and shrugged, somewhat defeated.

"Greg!" I yelled out, but the female detective put a hand on my shoulder and guided me away.

I walked out to the foyer and saw both Cuddy and Wilson sitting, waiting. "What's going on?" I asked.

"We're waiting for the lawyer. They're going to arraign House by phone."

"I'll wait with you."

"That was a wonderful piece of work that you did on Susan." Wilson said.

"Thanks. I think I may have gotten House arrested. I signed a statement that the alarm was on when I unlocked the front door this morning."

The attorney walked out from the holding area. He was a handsome African-American lawyer who seemed very much in control. "House was arraigned on second degree murder and bail has been set at $2.0 million."

"_Two million?"_ Cuddy exclaimed.

"You'll need $200,000 to secure a bond." His attorney warned.

"I'll get it." I said. "The equity in my loft is close to $400,000."

The jaw dropping looks I got from Cuddy and Wilson made me laugh.

"Look, he's a safe bet and since I don't think he did it, I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is."

The attorney looked at me. "You're Dr. Doyle, right?"

I nodded.

"They may see posting bail for Dr. House as part of a conspiracy."

"I'm willing to take that chance. He didn't do it."

"You must be close friends."

There was snickering from Wilson and Cuddy.

"No, we don't even like each other."

Wilson spoke up. "I can help."

"Great." I said.

Between Wilson and I, we had a bond secured by seven that evening. House was released to us. He walked out of the holding area, the sound of metal doors clanging behind him and out to the lobby without his cane, which had been taken away from him. One of the cops walked out and handed it to him. House was looking anxious and exhausted

Walking up to Wilson and me, the first thing he asked was, "How's Susan doing?"

"I just got off the phone with Chase. The surgery went well, but she hasn't come to. She lost a lot of blood and is on her third unit." I said, observing the fact that he looked distraught.

House rubbed his forehead and nodded that he understood. We piled into Wilson's car and went back to the lofts. Upstairs, Susan's loft was marked with police tape. House pulled it off and opened the door with his key. We followed him inside and as we turned the corner into the bedroom, we all stopped and stared at the brick red blood on the bedding and floor. A chalk mark had been drawn around it .

"I'll make sure it's cleaned up." I went over to the dresser. "Come on, Greg, get your things, you can't stay here. The police haven't cleared it. Do you still have your apartment?"

"No, it's subleased."

I sighed and shook my head. "Well, Wilson's niece is still at his place so you'll have to come stay with me."

House did a double take. "You? You?"

Wilson stepped in. "House, Finley put up half the $200,000 for your bail."

"Why?" He asked more as an accusation than a question.

"I don't think you did it."

"Then you did."

I gasped. "What?"

"You and I were the only ones in that apartment when I woke up."

"And why would I kill her? You're the one in bed with her, prints on the knife and with several witnesses who heard you two fighting the night before."

He shut up and went over to help me grab some of his clothes. Under his breath he mumbled. "I didn't try to kill her."

I whispered back. "I know. That's why I'm willing to let you stay with me. It will give us a chance to brainstorm."

He gave me a curt nod and then we packed up, ready to leave. As we were about to walk out the door, House ran back into the house and grabbed the telephone receiver and brought it with him. We all went down to my place and had drinks.

"Why the receiver?"

"It lists the phone numbers of all the incoming call for the last few weeks."

"Okay, but what's that going to tell us?'

He rolled his eyes. "Who called. We know who she called from her phone bill, I grabbed it from the desk and I can look it up online. But, this will tell us who phoned her."

"Smart thinking." I said.

Once we were in my apartment, Wilson didn't bother to sit. "I have to get into the hospital. I should have been there an hour ago; I have a patient that's having a bad reaction to the chemotherapy. I'll be back later."

I nodded and watched as Wilson took off. House had gone to the restroom to take a shower.

"Where's Wilson?"

"Patient. I made you some dinner, Jumbalaya and a beer. I hope that works for you?"

"I'm starved. Thanks."

I watched as he sat at the island and began to eat without saying anyting. His wet hair revealed just how thin it was. But he still looked handsome, virile in his blue t-shirt and muscled arms. Out of the blue, I wondered if he was gentle in bed? I could only imagine that Susan felt safe in those masculine arms. Still, he couldn't keep her safe. Someone had managed to incapacitate him and stab her.

"When you woke up, did you feel groggy?"

"You mean, did someone drug me?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure someone did. I had a hard time differentiating between sleep and being awake. I'm pretty sure I touched the weapon, thought about pulling it out, but then I came to my senses—woke up, and the doctor in me took over."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Making love, getting up to flush the condom and then feeling very sleepy."

It was more information that I thought I was entitled to, but I could see he was piecing it together in his head.

"What did you ingest before going to bed?"

He looked up from the plate towards me, but wasn't really looking at me. "We had some wine that she had opened for the slumber party…the red."

I looked at him and we both jumped up. "The cork, we need the cork."

"We need the bottle."

I grabbed my keys and a flashlight. We took the elevator and then opened the door, rushing straight to the kitchen. I grabbed a plastic bag and waited as House rummaged through the trash can. He found the cork, picking it out and throwing it in the bag. Standing up, he began to look around.

"The bottle's not in there."

"Someone took the bottle?"

He nodded.

"Oh, wow. That gives me the heebie jeebies."

He frowned, "The what?"

"Nothing. We need to get that cork to a lab and see if they find traces of anything in it. Was there anything else you had?"

He opened the refrigerator and looked around. "I had some cheese, a piece."

"Grab it and put it in the bag."

He threw the chunk of Irish cheddar into the bag and then turned to me. "Nothing else."

"Let's go."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Who Can You Trust?**

We drove to the hospital and House called the lab that he and his team used to run tests on items that they confiscated from patient's homes and places of work. I reached in and took out the cork from the plastic bag.

"Greg! Look!"

I showed him the top of the cork. It was deformed in the middle by the cork screw, but on the side there was also a deformation, as if a pipe or needle had been pushed down the side between the cork and the bottle.

"Interesting." House stopped and examined it. "We need for the police to do this. If we destroy evidence that could vindicate me; I'm up the creek."

"The detectives that talked to me didn't seem that interested in finding you innocent. We need someone who's a straight arrow--more interested in justice than closing a file."

"I know the guy." House said with a frown.

"Who?"

"Detective Michael Tritter."

"Friend of yours?"

"No, he hates my guts."

"And you want to trust him with the evidence?"

"He's the kind that would do the right thing just to prove he wasn't prejudiced against me."

"Let's call him." I saw the distaste in his expression. He really disliked this Tritter guy. "Greg, we can call one of the other detectives."

"They're not going to listen. Susan's family is too wealthy. They're going to want to button this case up quickly and I'm their favorite button. Hey, what did you do with that sample you took from me?"

"I gave it to Cuddy to test. I doubt the results will be back until tomorrow."

"Shit. I guess we should call Tritter."

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No, if I do it he'll get a hard on just hearing me ask for help. He'll be all over this like white on rice."

While we waited for Detective Tritter we went up to see Susan. She was still unconscious. House leaned over her and stroked her hair. "Susan, you need to fight."

"Greg, look. She has a fever." I went over to the bed and rang for the nurse. After ordering tests and antibiotics I looked up to see a look on House's face that made my blood run cold. He was staring over my shoulder and he wasn't happy. I turned and saw a man, approximately 6'6", short white hair, handsome, standing just outside the door. "Is that Detective Tritter?"

House nodded.

I stepped out and shook the man's hand. "Detective Tritter, can you come to my office?" I stuck my head in the door. "Greg, it's not a good idea for you to be alone with Susan, it wouldn't look good. Come with us."

House grimaced, but followed me. We closed the door to my office and I took the seat behind my desk. Tritter remained standing, his height was so formidable it gave me the feeling that he had all the power in the room. House leaned up against my short book case.

"Why am I here, Dr. House?" He turned pointedly and stared at Greg.

"I asked him to call you here. I wanted a police officer to take possession of a piece of evidence and frankly, I don't trust the detectives in charge of the case." I said pointedly.

"I'm not going to interfere with their investigation." He said, chewing a piece of gum in a slow methodical move.

"We don't expect you to. We want to hand it to you and tell you our thoughts about it."

Greg had his arms crossed over his chest and a frown etched like a prune into his face. Tritter was just as sour in his countenance.

"Fine, what is it?"

I handed the plastic bag to him. "It's a cork off of the wine bottle that Greg drank out of last night. The wine bottle itself is missing, but if you look at the cork, you can see that something indented it on the side as if it was slipped down between the cork and the bottle. Greg slept through Susan Friday being stabbed and we think it was because he was drugged.

"You do, do you?" Tritter said sarcastically.

House was about to say something, but I held up a hand. "Yes. We hope that you at least run tests on the cork to see if it has trace chemicals. It's all we ask."

Tritter looked at me as if he was contemplating what to do. Then he turned to House. "Still on Vicodin?"

House shook his head. "You were right; I started to hallucinate, ended up in Mayfield. I've been off Vicodin for over a year."

Tritter's face barely changed, but I did note a tinge of surprise and it was clear that he hadn't expected Greg to be so forthright. He put his hand up to his mouth and finally nodded. "I'll log it in and send it to the lab. Where did you find it?"

"Trash can in Susan's loft."

"No bottle?"

Greg spoke up. "It was missing. We were drinking a 2002 Neckenmarkt, an easy bottle to recognize because there aren't that many floating around."

Tritter was writing this in a little notebook. "Okay, any other evidence you took from the scene?"

"Detective," I said while swallowing hard. "Greg and I took this cork _after_ the police had done their search. There is one more thing."

"What?"

"I took a blood sample of Greg's blood before the police arrived."

"Did they take one too?"

I shook my head. "We should have the results back late this afternoon or tomorrow."

Tritter sighed with frustration. "Well, I can't fault you for that. They could have taken a sample too if they had wanted one. Just let them know the results when you're done. If there's nothing else, I'll get this to the lab?"

I shook my head.

Tritter left without saying anything else. I looked over at House. "He's not very fond of you, is he?"

"The feeling is mutual."

"Well, I think he was a good choice. No one can claim that we shopped for a favorable cop, can they?"

"Come on, I'm tired." House growled.

"I am too."

We stopped to see Susan once more before leaving. The antibiotics had been hooked up and she was resting peacefully.

Driving home, House seemed quiet, subdued, contemplative. I didn't bother asking what was going on in his head; I was afraid he might tell me. Once in the loft, House collapsed on the sofa and watched a little news. I called Cuddy and told her that, with the exception of taking care of Susan, I needed the next day off. She wasn't happy, but she said she'd get someone to cover my schedule. With the exception of my class, the only other concern was one of my transplant patients who I was scheduled to do a liver transplant from his brother in two days. I usually saw may patient a few days before the scheduled transplant, but I'd have to leave it in the hands of the transplant team and my protégé, Jason Shapiro.

"You're taking the day off?" House asked.

"I think you should too. We need to put our heads together. Let's assume the wine is drugged. That means that someone got into Susan's apartment, knew the alarm number, drugged the wine, either waited in the apartment until you went to bed or came back and stabbed Susan, set the alarm and left. A lock can be picked, or a window opened, but someone had to know the alarm code. Who knew the code?"

"I did. Susan did. _You did."_ He said with emphasis on me.

"And?"

"The alarm company. Maybe it was someone from the alarm company."

"Did she have anyone out to repair it?"

House shrugged. "Not that I know of."

"Were there any repairmen that she had to give the alarm code to?"

House rolled his eyes and shook his head. "As if I would know. I don't think so. Christ is this going anywhere?"

"Greg! I'm just trying to help."

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "Yeah, I know." When he looked up I was struck by how forlorned he looked. I went over and sat next to him, putting a hand on his back for comfort.

"I know you're worried. We're going to figure this out."

He started shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at me. My hand slid off his back. "Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you being nice to me?" There was a mixture of suspicion and gratitude.

"Because I want the real person caught…because you're Susan's boyfriend."

"But, you hate me."

"Yeah, I'm not your biggest fan, but Susan seems to think you're okay. I just want to be able to say that I did whatever I could to prove who was really responsible."

"Maybe you're doing this because _you did it_."

My jaw hit the floor. "You don't believe that! Do you? Why would I do it?"

"Like the detective said, you really want me for yourself." He said it without cracking a smile.

I paused, trying to read him and then started howling with laughter; he joined in. It was just what we needed. When I finally caught my breath I sat back and sighed.

"I'm really worried, Greg. If she gets an infection in her heart it could be fatal."

"Yeah, believe it or not that's an MD at the end of my name. I know what it could mean."

"Do you know if they took anything from the apartment?"

"Besides the bottle? No, it didn't look like it to me."

"So, someone wanted her dead."

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. What gave it away? The knife in the heart?"

I smiled at him. "I take it that the two of you made up last night."

"What gave you that impression?"

"The fact that you were both naked this morning when I arrived."

"Admit it; you were impressed with what I have to offer. All the ladies are."

I laughed at his joke. "I'm glad it worked out. But you were a jerk for screwing up her party."

"I offered to make it more of a party, but she just wasn't into a six-some."

"What if they were really after everyone at that party?"

"Frightened? You want me to sleep with you to keep you safe? Strike that—you saw how that worked out for Susan."

I cracked a smile, but the truth was I was a little unnerved by the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone wanted all of us dead and House had foiled their plan. He must have seen my concern because he snickered at me.

"If they had wanted the entire group of women; they would have dosed all of your drinks. They didn't. But the offer to sleep with you still stands."

"You wish."

"I'm not the one who was staring at my package this morning."

"There are different reasons for staring, not all are good."

He snorted and laughed. "Have you ever been married?"

I shook my head.

"I figured."

"You've never been married either, right?"

"Never."

I saw he was about to make a remark. "No…no comments from you."

He chuckled and leaned back. There was an awkward silence. Finally, House turned to me, his brow furrowed in thought, "Her code, is there some background to it?"

"Well, it's her student i.d. from med school."

"You're joking." He tsked and then turned his head.

Our faces were less than a foot apart. I suddenly felt a wave of butterflies as I stared into his too-too blue eyes. I shrugged. "Why would I joke?"

"Does she always use that number as her code?"

"I'm not sure, but she did in Boston and here."

"So, we're not just dealing with just the three of us, but with anyone who knew her alarm code in Boston?"

"Isn't that a little far fetched?" I was still trying to cope with the twitter in my abdomen and the fact that I could smell his warm, musky smell and what Susan had said about his abilities. Then I felt incredibly guilty and confused.

"No, this was a very personal attack…so we have to look at those who know her personally."

"Oh, can we do this in the morning? I'm really, really tired." I said, trying to get some distance between the two of us.

"Okay. I'm going to stay up for a few minutes and watch tv. My leg is aching."

"I have a Jacuzzi bath if you want to take one."

"Your bathroom?"

I nodded. "Why don't you go ahead and take a bath, I'll clean up a little in the kitchen."

"Thanks." He disappeared into the guest room and then I heard the door open and my bedroom door close. I started cleaning up the living room and then started on the kitchen, putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, cleaning the counters and sweeping. He had been in the bathroom for half an hour when I heard the draining of water indicating he was getting out of the bath. I was just finishing up, putting the sugar back in the pantry when something jumped out at me and then something else scurried along the floor. I'm not afraid of mice unless they surprise me and these two surprised me. The scream I let out brought a wet House, wrapped in a towel around his waist out of the bedroom, holding up his cane as he ran out to defend me. The towel dropped just as I jumped at his body for protection. He fell back and I fell on top of him.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! They went under the sink."

"Under the sink? What are you talking about?" he yelled.

"Mice!"

He drew in a deep breath of frustration. "You screamed because you saw mice?"

I grabbed his hand and put it on my heart. "Feel that! It scared me!"

"Mice frighten you?"

"Only if they come out of nowhere." From the tone of his voice, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I sighed and then I realized my body was on his slightly wet, naked body and my mouth was only inches from his. I looked at his lips and then up into his eyes wondering why this was so confusing. I needed to get off of him and get away, but he made the first move, rolling to the side so that I dropped onto the floor and then he looked around for the towel, grabbing it and wrapping it around his waist again.

He gave me a naughty smile. "You wanted to kiss me."

I mustered all the bravado I could. "I did not! You're the last person I'd want to kiss."

"Oh, no, you wanted me." He pointed a finger at me and wagged it.

I grabbed the finger and clenched my jaw. "I did not. You're a meglomaniac! You think everyone wants you."

He snickered again. "You like me."

"Oh, right! I like you like a hangnail…it's great when it's _gone!"_

"Do you want me to go on a mouse hunt? I took down the mob in Wilson's loft."

"You mean everyone has mice in this building?"

"It's fairly common on the east coast."

"Did Susan have mice? I mean, maybe she gave her alarm number to a pest control company."

House shook his head. "When I told her about Wilson's she made a big deal about the fact that having a penthouse had its perks…too high for the mice to climb."

"Wishful thinking…mice go anywhere."

"She knew that, she was just joking, but she didn't have mice."

"So much for that theory."

I quickly realized that we were both on our sides, lying on the floor like an old married couple talking in bed. It seemed extremely intimate and so I jumped up and looked down at him. Staring up, he seemed baffled by my move.

"I know I don't smell, I just used some of your lavender bath oil. Is it my masculine presence? It is somewhat overwhelming for most virgins."

"Yeah, that must be it. You're too much for me to handle."

"I could train you."

Sighing, I put a fist on my hip and assumed my best 'annoyed' posture. "I know you're joking, but please remember that you're living with my best friend who is now fighting for her life."

I received a look of total disgust. "You think I don't know it? Why do you think I'm joking around? When I stop, all I can think of is her lying there with the knife handle moving with the beat of her heart."

"Sorry." I said contritely. "I know you're concerned. I'm just edgy—time to call it a night. See you in the morning." I turned and walked into my bedroom, took a quick shower, dressed in my short nightgown and climbed in bed. I tried reading for awhile, watched a little television and then I turned out the light, but my mind kept replaying everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, including my butterfly response to being near House. My whole world had been turned on its head.

I still couldn't sleep so I jumped up and dressed. When I went out to the living room to get my purse and keys, House sat up and looked at me. He was now dressed in what looked like cotton lounging pants and a t-shirt. The little clock on the DVR said it was two am.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on Susan."

He jumped up, "Did they page you?"

I held out my hands to calm him. "No! No, no. I just can't sleep."

"Hold on, I'll go with you." He hobbled back to the bedroom and a few minutes later was back and dressed, ready to go.

It felt as if the entire world was asleep as we drove through the town, not seeing a single oncoming car until we turned onto Nassau. When we arrived at PPTH, the parking lot was almost empty and the only activity was an ambulance that was being washed out by a paramedic.

We made our way in silence up to Susan's room and checked her vitals, looked at the chart and determined that not much had changed. I went to my office and was surprised to find that I had an email waiting for me from the lab that we had sent Greg's blood to. I printed the result and went running back to Susan's room, finding Greg in one of the chairs.

"Whoa, that's a big smile." Greg said, his brow knitted in curiosity.

"Rohypnol, your blood had Rohypnol in it!"

"Who wanted to rape me?"

"Ha, ha. You know, it probably saved Susan."

"What planet did you say you were from?"

"Really, I've been blown away by this. Susan's nick to her heart was small, but the amount of blood she lost was still a lot. She could easily have died of blood loss. I suspect the attack was around three or four, something like that. She only survived because the roofie slowed her heart down…she would have been pumping more blood if she hadn't been drugged."

He gave me a little nod. "Now who's Sherlock? You're probably right."

"We'll turn over the results tomorrow to your favorite detective. The amount was high enough in your system that you couldn't have been awake when this happened."

"Have I told you that I love you!" He said with gusto and a funny look.

"Greg! Susan might hear that and mistake…"

"Oh, give me a break. She's out of it and besides, she knows how much we hate each other."

I was hurt by his words. I know we 'hated' each other, but after all we had been through during the day, I thought we had built up some trust in each other, some respect. I couldn't let him see my distress so I turned towards Susan. "You're right. Susan knows I can't stand you."

I sat in the chair next to his and stared into space. He jumped up and went to the door.

"I'm going down to my office. I've got a nice chair to sleep in down there." And then he took off leaving me alone with Susan.

**Dear Readers! I hope you're enjoying this. I'd love to hear from you! Please review! Thanks, Kim (Gorby.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

**Friday Knights**

When I woke the next morning, the sun was peeking through the blind and shining directly in my eyes. Blinking, I sat up trying to get my bearings. I quickly remembered where I was and why. Glancing up at the bed, I was shocked to see Susan staring back at me.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up." Susan whispered.

"Oh, Suze…" I burst out crying. "Sorry." I wiped my eyes and then went over and kissed her on her forehead. "I've been so worried."

"What happened? Why am I here?"

I gave her an extremely abbreviated version, leaving out the part that Greg had been arrested and our attempts to clear him. I didn't want to stress her out. She was doing well, but she had no memory of events of the night. I was adjusting her medicine when I looked up and saw Greg making his way towards the room.

"Steady on, here comes your favorite jerk."

Susan opened her eyes and smiled when Greg came through the door. He said nothing, but immediately bent down and gave her a long, loving kiss. I have to admit, I had to look away, the kiss made me uneasy and I just couldn't watch.

"I'm going to go get some coffee and breakfast." I mentioned as I made my way to the door.

"Cream, no sugar." House said.

"Oh, you want coffee?"

"Duh."

I rolled my eyes and left for the cafeteria. While I was down there, House walked up to me.

"Chase showed up and examined her. He's scheduled an MRI and then she'll probably need some more sleep. I thought I'd get an egg and sausage sandwich. Is that my coffee?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you take it over to that table, I'll join you as soon as I get the sandwich."

As I walked over to the table, I yelled over my shoulder. "Get me one too." I chuckled to myself; I knew it was a sport for House to avoid paying for food.

We sat in the booth, both needing a really good night's sleep. I kept wishing this were all over. But, my mind was still racing, trying to figure out who would do this and why?

"Let's put a list of people together who might know her security code."

Finley smiled and took a napkin out. Clicking the pen, she began to write and speak out loud, "Me, you, Susan, her former roommate Terry, her ex-husband…since it was her student number her instructors at med school knew it, but whether they knew it was her code, I don't know."

"Ex-husband?"

"Keith Jeffries."

"He was pissed when he couldn't break their pre-nup." House thought out loud.

"But, that was two years ago. He's all about the money…and there's no money if Susan dies. Her money goes back to the trust."

House shook his head and grinned. "He's not after her trust."

"What is he after? Revenge?"

"We need to know if Susan ever took out a life insurance policy naming him as a beneficiary."

"But wouldn't an insurance policy lapse if the trust didn't pay for it?"

"Yes, but what if the trust wasn't paying the premium? " House's eyes were focused out in space somewhere giving Finley the feeling that she was not even in his universe.

"First of all, we're getting ahead of ourselves. Why would Susan take out a life insurance policy when she has all the money in the world in a trust fund?"

"To pay him off if she died. It was probably part of the prenup."

"We need to ask Susan."

They went back to find Susan and discovered that she was still in the MRI. House burst into the control room and flipped the mike on to talk to her.

"Susan, did you have an insurance policy that named your ex-husband as beneficiary if you bought the farm?"

"Greg?"

"Yeah, it's me, just answer the question."

"I don't know. My trustee and attorney handled all of that. I'm sorry, I just don't know."

"Susan, you're a moron, you should never let others have total control."

"That's none of your business."

"Yeah, well we'll talk about that later."

He flipped the switch and joined Finley in the hall. "She doesn't know. Seems her trustee takes care of that. Who's her trustee?"

"I'm not sure. It changes from time to time. It's a professional trustee who does nothing but handle her and her sibling's trusts."

"Does her father know you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Would he answer your questions about the trust?"

"I don't know. Rich people don't like others snooping. But, I heard that he's on his way here from India—we could ask."

"I don't know if we have time. If someone wanted her dead, what's to stop them from taking her out in the hospital?"

"She doesn't have security?"

"One cop. And he's flirting with the nurses more than he's guarding her."

Finley picked up her cell phone and dialed. She waited until someone picked up. "Matthew?"

"Yes?"

"It's Finley."

"Finley! How's Susan? Dad and I are on our way. We just landed at JFK."

"Matt, Susan needs security. Someone tried to kill her and may still be trying to kill her. She has one paltry cop who isn't that interested in being here."

"You're joking? One cop? Let me arrange something. We'll be there in a few hours."

"Matt?" She realized from the dead silence that he had hung up. She put her phone in her pocket. "Crap, I was going to ask him about the life insurance policy."

"What about the women last night? What do you know about them?"

"Not much, you kinda killed any chance to get to know them with your little drama. I know that they're all single. The only one I had met before was Matilda."

"This sucks. We're not getting anywhere."

"We need to sleep."

He got that naughty grin on his face. "Look, you've got to stop torturing yourself; it's not going to happen. I'm not sleeping with you."

"I knew that was coming."

"Yeah and it's the only thing coming—get it?"

Finley rolled her eyes. "I'm going to the doctor's lounge and see if I can't get some sleep."

He followed her to the doctor's lounge, taking up residence on the far end of the sofa, putting his feet up on the ottoman. Finley took the other end, pulling her feet up under her and laying her head on the rolled arm. When she woke up, she felt House's hand on her calf. Looking over her shoulder she could see his head back, mouth slightly opened, eyes closed. He was asleep but had managed to find and hold onto her leg. She wondered how many people had wandered through and seen his hand caressing her calf. At least it wasn't her thigh.

Pulling her leg away from him, she stood up and stretched. Looking back, he was still asleep so she went into the bathroom and splashed her face before making her way to Susan's room. When she got there, she saw Matthew and J. John Friday, Susan's father, standing outside of the room talking to three men in shades and dark suits—security had arrived. Running into Matthew's arms, they hugged.

"Oh, Matthew, it was horrible." Finley cried.

"I heard you did a phenomenal job on patching her up. You saved her life."

"She's a fighter."

Finley turned to Susan's father, "Jack, I'm sorry to meet again under these circumstances."

He gave her a brief, but warm hug. "Thank you for saving her life. I hear the police arrested her boyfriend for the crime."

"They have the wrong man. He didn't do it."

Jack backed away as if she was nuts. "His prints are on the knife and I heard they had been arguing."

"They made up and had sex, so there was no real motive for him to do it. Besides, he was drugged. I ran tests and he had Rohypnol in his blood and there was evidence that the wine they drank had been tampered with."

Jack knotted his forehead and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "The detectives told you that?"

"No, I've discovered this on my own. I know Greg House and he wouldn't hurt Susan."

Jack was clearly disturbed by what I was saying. "Finley, I've heard this man has been institutionalized and is known for being a handful."

"Yes, he is. But, he wouldn't hurt—oh, here he is."

Bam! House was sprawled on the floor with Matthew over him, fist balled and ready to hit again. Finley grabbed Matthew's elbow before he could attack again. "Matt, I swear, he didn't do it! Please, believe me, if I thought he was the attacker, I'd deck him myself."

House was rubbing his chin and backing away from Matt. Finley extended her hand and helped him up.

"Greg House, this is Matthew Friday and Jack Friday, Susan's brother and father."

House didn't bother to extend his hand when it was clear none was being extended to him.

"Have you been in to see her?" Finley asked.

They both nodded.

"We arrived about half an hour ago when she was still awake."

"Good, she seems to be responding to the antibiotics, so I think she'll be okay. Why don't you come down to my office so that we can talk?"

They reluctantly followed Finley and House to Finley's office. House sat behind the desk where Finley usually sat. The Fridays took the visitor chairs. Finley leaned on the edge of her desk. She gave them a thumbnail sketch of their theory.

"Did Susan have a life insurance policy drawn up on her?"

Both Matthew and Jack shrugged.

"The Friday Family trust pays out a lump sum at the age of 26 to a separate trust for each heir. That trust has its own trustee. Once Susan turned 26, I had no control or knowledge about how she spent her money or handled her financial affairs." Jack said.

"Who is her trustee?" House asked.

Jack ignored House.

"Jack, who is her trustee?" Finley said softly.

"Melody Caldwell. It changed three years ago. She's with Caldwell and Caldwell, it's a family trust company that oversees a lot of the major family trusts on the eastern seaboard."

"Do you think she might give us some information?"

Matthew and Jack both shook their heads. "They know their business depends on their discretion. Without Susan's approval, they won't say a word."

"Well, we can get that when she wakes up." Finley said.

House stared off as if an answer was somewhere in the stratosphere. "I think we need to call my favorite detective." House stood up and went out into the hall. Finley followed him.

"What are you doing?"

House held a finger to his mouth as he waited for a response. "Tritter, its House. We have some news. My blood had a fairly high amount of Rohypnol in it, meaning I would have been sedated for the entire night. It's why I didn't hear or feel anything that was going on."

Finley pulled his hand down so they could both listen to Tritter's response.

"That matches what we found. The cork had traces of Rohypnol. It looks as if you may not have done it personally, but it doesn't rule you out as a co-conspirator."

"Fair enough. But, we're wondering if Susan had any insurance policies out there that would have paid off if she died."

"She was rich and single, why would she need an insurance policy?"

"Christ, we don't know. We just know someone wanted her dead and money is usually a big motive. Is there any way you can check for insurance policies?"

"What about her? I thought she was awake. Can't she tell you?"

"No, she more or less leaves all the decisions to her trustee." House responded.

"Give me the name of her trustee and I'll see what I can get out of her."

After giving Tritter the information, House turned to Finley. "I get the feeling that Daddy and bro aren't going to take me out for drinks, so I'm going to go down and see Susan and then do some research."

"I need to get them settled in. I'll join you in your office in a few minutes."

He stopped for a minute and, without smiling, said to her, "Thanks for running interference. I still don't get why you're doing this." He turned and took off leaving Finley asking herself the same question.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Getting Evidence**

House Googled Susan's trustee, Melody Caldwell, and found that the company had offices in Boston, New York and Philadelphia. She had an MBA from Harvard and her resume stated quite proudly that she took over the Susan Friday Trust three years ago. She was thirty-nine and single, married once, divorced two years ago.

When Finley showed up she handed him a coffee and a sandwich. He showed her what he had found as he unwrapped his sandwich.

"Not much to go on is there?" Finley said.

"Nope. Crap, I can't just sit here. Let's drive up to Philly."

"Philly?" She asked.

"I called and they said that Caldwell was in the Philly branch this week."

"Let me check on Susan and then we can go, okay?"

"Fine."

Half an hour later they were on their way to Philadelphia. This time they talked about books and personal philosophy. Finley argued with him over her faith and religion, laughed over his personal philosophy about women and was fascinated when he talked about medical ethics and surprised to find that her thoughts often mirrored his own on the issues discussed.

"Greg, women are like phones. We love to be held, talked to, but if you press the wrong button you'll be disconnected!"

House laughed out loud at Finley's remark. "The problem is that they're too much like cell phones, they often aren't receptive and their ringtones can be annoying."

We both laughed and then stopped and stared at each other.

"Crap." He said.

"What?"

"I can't believe you might actually be tolerable. It's like finding out that Darth Vader is really Luke's Dad."

"You mean you were wrong about me?"

"No, I'm right about you. You're a prude, a workaholic, a Patch Adams, but, contrary to outward appearances, you do have a personality."

"Careful now, don't let your brains go to your head." She looked down and smiled. "No, seriously, I have to admit that you're not what I expected."

"Wait, don't get mushy. I don't want you to turn the other cheek, it's just as ugly."

She rolled her eyes and grinned at him. "You are a piece of work."

Arriving at the Philadelphia branch of Caldwell and Caldwell, the receptionist refused to even tell Melody Caldwell that she had visitors until House threw a fit, claiming that they were discriminating against the handicapped. Despite the fact that there was no discrimination, Melody Caldwell showed up in the lobby and motioned them into a conference room.

Closing the door behind her, she asked in an agitated voice, "Who are you two and what do you want?"

"I'm Susan Friday's boyfriend and this is her best friend, Finley Doyle."

"Oh, no! She's dead!" The woman suddenly cried out.

House and Finley looked at each other suspiciously.

"Why would you assume that?" House asked.

"She was stabbed in the heart, right?"

"No, not exactly." Finley said, narrowing her eyes.

"She wasn't?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"The news."

"Really?" Finley commented more than asked. "We need to ask you some questions."

"I doubt I can help you without Susan's approval."

"We can get her on the phone." House said calmly, still eyeing the trustee.

"She's awake and talking?"

The grin that crossed House's face would have put the Cheshire cat to shame. "Yes, she is."

"Oh." She sounded surprised. "What did you want to ask?"

Finley piped up, "Did Susan have—"

"A prenup?" House yelled out, giving Finley a look to make her shut up.

"Yes, but that's common knowledge."

"How much did he eventually get?"

"One million after all the court fees were paid."

"Where does he live now?" House asked.

"The last contact I had with Keith he was living here in Philadelphia."

House nodded. "Did Susan have a life insurance policy?"

"You mean did the trust pay for a life insurance policy?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, without Susan's approval, I can't give out that information."

House dialed and was put through to Susan's room. He spoke to her and then handed the phone to Caldwell. Within minutes, Melody was singing.

"When Susan was married, part of the prenup was that a life insurance policy was taken out in his name. He would not inherit her trust, which would return to the Friday Family Trust, but he would be the beneficiary of a twenty-five million dollar policy."

Finley's jaw dropped. "Oh my God! What happened when they divorced."

"The trust stopped paying the premium and we gave Keith the one million after the courtroom battle."

"Who was she insured through?" House asked.

"Company?"

"Yes."

"American General Life."

House nodded. "How much was the premium?"

"$50,000 a year, why?"

House whistled. "That's a big premium."

"It would be a very big payout."

"Would have been…right?" House asked.

"Yes, that's what I meant."

House stood up and grabbed Finley by the elbow. "Come on, Finley, let's let Ms. Caldwell get back to her work."

Finley was a little surprised at House's insistence that they leave, but realized that House had an idea and wanted to explore it. They hustled out of the office and into the elevator. Finley started to ask House, but he shook his head as a warning not to say anything. They reached the car which was parked a block down the street and climbed inside.

"What?" Finley said.

"Obviously, you're not as bright as you look. Didn't you hear what she said?"

"Of course I did."

House gave her a look as if he didn't believe her.

Finley sighed. "She referred to Keith by his first name and when she talked about the policy paying out it was in present tense."

House looked shocked. "You _were_ listening. Did you also hear her say that Susan had been stabbed in the heart?"

"Yeah."

"The police only released the information that she had been stabbed."

"Yes, but it's possible her father or brother told her."

"I don't think so. I don't think they'd stop their twenty-four hour rush to Susan to call her trustee to share her condition. There was no reason."

"I'm not surprised that she called him Keith because she's known him for several years."

House snickered, "There's more to this. Why is she in Philadelphia when the internet said she lives in Boston? She said that Keith is in Philadelphia too."

"_Was_ in Philadelphia. We don't know if he's still here."

"We have some work to do…here in Philly."

"I need to call Chase and find out how Susan is." Finley pulled out her iPhone and dialed Chase's cell. After several minutes, Finley hung up and turned, frowning , "Greg, you're in violation of your bail by being in Pennsylvania. We need to get you back to New Jersey."

"Yeah, in a few hours. How's Susan?"

"Better. She has a lot of visitors so they've been regulating who can get in. Chase said that I'm not needed at this moment. You need to call her though; she asked where you were."

He grimaced, but nodded that he would. "Hey, isn't that Melody Caldwell?"

Finley looked up just in time to see a harried Melody pushing her way through the crowds, rushing east in a big hurry. House looked at Finley with an eyebrow raised. "Yo! Cripple here! I can't follow her! You're going to have to get your lazy ass out there and do it. I'll try to follow both of you in the car." House said pushing Finley to get out.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Finley grabbed her purse and jumped out scowling but grateful that she had on some comfortable walking shoes. Short in stature, Finley had trouble spotting where Melody had gone until she looked back and saw House pointing to a crosswalk. In it was Melody, racing as the walk sign turned red. Finley dodged through traffic, jaywalking to catch up with her. House swallowed hard when she had a near miss. Strangely, watching her chase Melody made him appreciate her for her agility, quick thinking and faith in him. He pulled out into traffic and had to get into the left lane to turn left and follow behind them. House grinned to himself when he realized that Finley had almost over took Melody and had to cut back to keep from being noticed. About five blocks down, Melody ducked into a building with residential lofts above a large furniture store.

Finley looked over her shoulder and noted that House was pulling into a yellow zone while she went up to check. She watched as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. Taking the stairs, she made it to the fourth floor huffing and puffing. When she got into the hall, there was no sign of Melody. She had obviously disappeared into one of the lofts. Finley started walking the hall, listening at each of the doors. Reaching one close to the elevator, she heard the television on but no one was talking. Moving down the hall, there were only three lofts left. She hit pay dirt at the next one. She could hear Melody arguing with a male inside the door, but couldn't make out the words. The number on the loft was 4E. Not quite knowing what to do, she went down to the end of the hall with the stairs so she'd have a quick exit if she needed it and then dialed House.

"Yeah?" He said, wondering what the hell she was doing calling him.

"She went into 4E and there's someone in there with her. They're arguing but the doors are heavy and I can't make out what they're arguing about."

"Who lives in 4E?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, do something brilliant like look at the mailbox or something!"

"That means I have to go downstairs."

"Duh…not much you can do up there anyway."

"Fine!" She snapped, turning off her phone and running down the stairs. Down at the mailbox, there were no names on the boxes and none on the intercom outside. She stepped outside and shook her head so House could see her. He waved her to the car.

"I don't feel like sitting around waiting for her to come out so let's go back to Princeton and see if we can find anything. I'll call and see if my favorite detective can find out who lives here."

Finley took down the address and they headed home to Princeton. As they exited the elevator to Susan's apartment, they discovered that the police tape had been put back up and a note attached. "Dr. House, please refrain from entering until further notice."

House grabbed the note and yanked it off along with the police tape. Finley winced but followed behind.

"Greg, this may not be the best idea."

"Oh, yeah, maybe you're right." He rolled his eyes. "Look, I _live _here. My _stuff_ is here."

"You don't have to get cheeky with me. I've been trying to help you."

"With help like yours, I'd be sitting in your flat eating my sorrows away." He stopped and realized that it probably wouldn't be too bad if he was sitting in her apartment being fed. Turning he gave her a look that said he understood how stupid he sounded. "Maybe we should go down and you could feed me."

"No! We're here now, let's look for it."

He stepped in front of her. "You will feed me later, right?"

"Get out of my way…" Finley pushed him to the side and headed towards the small office. Sitting at the desk she started pulling drawers open and closing them, looking for anything that seemed legal.

House, who had already been through everything of Susan's when they had first moved in together and he was home alone, shook his head. "You won't find it in that desk. The only place that might have something is under the beds. I've been through everything from the knees up."

"You've searched through her personal things?"

"You're point?"

"Greg, did she say you could?" She said jumping out of her seat to go to the bedroom.

"No, but she didn't say we could today…so are you calling the kettle black?"

"Black, black, black…now let me by." She pushed past him and into the master bedroom. Getting down on all fours, she lifted the bed skirt to look under the bed.

House tilted his head to have a look at her ass. _Not bad. Why haven't I noticed that ass before? What I could do to –_

"Stop staring at my ass and give me your cane. There's a huge box pushed back under here." She said it without even stopping to confirm that he really was looking at her ass.

"Who said I was looking at that bean bag you call an ass?"

"Just give me the damn cane!"

He handed her the cane and she used it to push the box to the other side and then went around and pulled it the rest of the way out. Inside the four by four box were hundreds of envelopes and pieces of papers. She pulled out several envelopes and half of them were unopened.

"What the hell?" House said as he started going through the envelopes. "The ones from her trustee and attorney aren't even opened."

"It doesn't surprise me. She did the same thing in med school. It was because they'd call her if there was anything important. Or if she had to read something, they'd have her come into the office to explain it to her."

"Well, we better go through them." House said, pulling more and more unopened envelopes from the box.

"Jesus…this goes back five years. Okay, so we're looking for any clues as to who might want her dead or any life insurance policies or anything to do with the divorce?"

"You said you'd feed me. I could use sustenance before I start."

"I will, but we better make it a working dinner, grab a handful." Finley said.

Finley went out to the kitchen and placed an armload of envelopes on the island and then began chopping tomatoes, onions, cilantro, lettuce and then fried up some hamburger meat with spices for tacos. After heating the refried beans she sat out the plates. She fried up four corn tortillas and put them on a plate, handing it to House, placing the bowls of the other ingredients and a jar of salsa in front of him.

He thought it smelled pretty good. He dressed the corn tortilla and began eating as she nodded towards the stack of envelopes.

"Come on, start going through them. Do you want a beer?"

He nodded. She brought him a beer and he grinned. "Who said you're good for nothing?"

Rolling her eyes, she ate one of the tacos and began the laborious task of reading hundreds of letters, invoices and pleadings from her trustee and lawyer. They retired to the couch and continued while they played and watched _The Dog Whisperer_ in the background.

Half way through the night, Finley got up and refilled their drinks and brought him out a bag of pretzels. They sat reading like an old married couple.

"Oy! I've got something!" House yelled.

Finley jumped up and went to the end of the couch, nudging his shoulder with her hip for him to scoot over so that they could both read. She sat down next to him and then read it together. It was a letter from the attorney enclosing a copy of the prenuptial agreement and a title page to the life insurance that was bought as part of the prenup.

"Damn, she's right. Twenty-five million. American General policy number GLC390-3289. Where's your laptop?"

She went into the bedroom and grabbed her laptop bringing it out to the living room. They plugged in the policy number, Susan's social security number and her date of birth.

The screen refreshed and Finley's eyes grew big. She turned, latched onto House and planted a kiss on his lips.

"We did it! We did it."

House grabbed her back and planted a kiss on her, only this time it was slow, lingering over her soft lips, their noses brushing each other's. House's hand reached up behind her head and pulled her into his mouth again, their tongues slipping through to touch. When the kiss was over they both pulled back slowly, unable to look each other in the eye.

"Sorry, got carried away." He said as he swallowed hard and turned back to the screen.

"Yes, yes, just the excitement."

"Well now we know that the premium is still being paid by one Keith Jeffries."

"My God. It's been two years which means he's had to go through $100,000 of his $1 mil to keep the premiums paid."

"Well there had to be a decent period of time between the divorce and the murder to throw off suspicion."

"But wouldn't the insurance company question him paying the premium?"

"I doubt it. Apparently it must have been a part of the prenup that he could assume the policy if he wanted." House's cell phone rang. He pulled it out and answered, spoke for a few minutes and then hung up. "It just gets more and more interesting."

"Why?"

"4E belongs to Matilda Kasinsky."

Finley jumped up. "_What?"_

"It make sense."

"What makes sense?" Finley said, shaking her head in amazement.

"They needed a way into the apartment to tape the lock. Matilda joins the party, tapes the lock and leaves with everyone else. Asshole sneaks in after the women leave, stabs her, plugs in the alarm, takes the tape off the door and leaves making it look like I did it. He didn't count on you being the one to find us and test my blood, start the ball rolling. Without you, I'd be toast. Thanks."

"We need to let the police in on all of this."

"Yeah. You're right."

"Poor Susan, when she finds out that Matilda was an accomplice..."

"Better her girlfriend than her boyfriend." House said with a wide 'thank God' grin.

"Yeah, I guess so. Greg, I'm so glad it wasn't you."'

"You're going to have do a better imitation of hating me from now on, especially after you sexually molested me with your tongue."

Mouth wide opened, she shook her head. "That was your tongue."

"Sorry, it frequently gets in my way when I'm trying to give someone a tongue wagging and their mouth is over mine."

"Fuck you."

"See, everything's sexual with you." He said with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm going to bed. Tomorrow, well tomorrow we go to the police and hopefully, this will all be over."

There was a silence filled with confusion as House leaned ever so slightly towards her. Finley drew in her breath and waited, watching his lips. House stopped and then pushed himself up like a Jack in the Box.

"Bedtime. Good night." He said cheerfully. He disappeared into the bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Celebrate**

I had a miserable time trying to sleep. I woke up every hour on the hour no longer worried about proving House innocent, but proving that I wasn't a bitch who had a thing for my best friend's boyfriend. I kept having dreams of Greg and I having really hot, wild sex and just as I was about to come, I'd wake up with a sheen of sweat all over my body feeling like crap for dreaming about my best friend's boyfriend. So I forced myself to think about how much I hated House, how vulgar he is, how cruel. Between being sexually frustrated and feeling horribly guilty, sleep just wasn't on the menu.

I got up and took a shower, put on slacks and a blouse, a little makeup and my sandals. Once the smell of coffee wafted through the loft, House's body appeared in the middle of the living room in his boxers riding just low enough to see the start of his happy trail as it disappeared under the elastic. I turned quickly and started pouring him a cup.

"Ready to go clear your name?"

He took a deep breath through his nose, stretched in the air and yawned. "Yep. Man I slept like a baby last night."

"I'm glad. You needed it." I handed the coffee to him and as he grabbed it his fingers slipped over mine by accident. My tummy fluttered and I blushed.

He either didn't see it or pretended not to see it.

"I'm ready whenever you are." I told him.

"I'll take this back to the bathroom and get a shower. How's Susan?"

"When I called they said she was resting comfortably."

"Boring."

We were on the road within half an hour. I asked the detectives to meet us in Susan's room. I had everything we needed in a manila folder. When we arrived, Susan was sitting up in her bed smiling and talking with Matt. Her half-eaten breakfast was on the cart, ready to be taken away. Standing outside the room was her father and the detectives.

We walked inside and House went straight up to the bed and gave Susan a kiss. I think it was more to ruffle her brother's feathers than to give her affection. He sat down and asked her how she felt. Once the detectives came in I began to pull out all the information we had. When I got to the part about Keith and Matilda Kasinsky I saw Susan's face crumble. House sat on the edge of the bed and put an arm around her.

"Susan, she was a bitch who used you." I said.

"Still, it's hard to take. To know that someone you thought was your friend would conspired to kill you…and with your ex-husband no less!"

I went over to the other side of the bed. "Susan, Melody had to be involved too. She had to sanction allowing the premium to be paid by Keith. I'm sure the three of them were going to split the $25 million at Greg's expense. They did a great job setting him up."

Detective Hampson shook her head. "Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're not really sure all of this is true—"

"If Finley says it's true, it's true." Susan said with an air of defiance.

Susan's father had called the chief of police, who had heard our evidence. He stepped forward. "I think we owe Dr. House an apology, Detective. With this evidence it's obvious that he was framed. Dr. Doyle, you and Dr. House missed your calling, you should be detectives." The police chief turned to Jack. "We promise you that we'll have these people in jail before the day is up."

"Don't promise what you can't deliver, they're all in Philadelphia right now. You need to lure them to New Jersey and I can do that." Finley said. "I'll call her ex and tell him that I want a meet and greet here in Princeton so that he can persuade me not to go to the cops."

"We'll get the Philly cops to grab them and then we extradite them back here." The Chief said. "But in the meantime, let's call the trustee and tell her that it doesn't look good, that Susan's taken a turn for the worse and we don't expect her to make it. Jack, can you make the call?"

Susan's father took out his phone and dialed Melody Caldwell. "Melody?...Jack Friday. I'm at the hospital with Susan. No, it doesn't look good, she started bleeding again. .. No, they don't expect her to make it through the morning. I think we need you to come down so we can go over some trust issues. When can you get here?...Fine, I have to go." He hung up and turned to the chief. "She said she'll be down by noon."

"Great…that will help." The Chief gave instructions to the detectives and then turned back to Matt and Jack Friday. "I'm going to have to leave, but we'll grab her as soon as she crosses the state line."

Within the hour, the detective notified Jack and Matt that not only had Melody Caldwell been apprehended on her way to Princeton, but Keith Jeffries had been a passenger in the car. The only one left to apprehend was Matilda and the police were already poised to grab her if she showed up for work at her beauty salon.

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	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Arresting Matilda**

Susan returned home the following day, surrounded by round the clock nurses and caretakers. Finley stopped by each day for tea in the morning to examine her and have a few minutes of gossip. Sometimes House was lurking around in the background, but few words were exchanged between Finley and House. The partnership they had developed over the last week had retreated back into a cautious truce.

"They finally arrested Matilda." Susan said one morning a week after being home. "They found her in Atlantic City trying to lay low. She has platinum blonde hair now. It looks like a slam dunk. Both women have confessed and claimed it was Keith who did the dirty work. Boy, I know how to pick men don't I?"

Finley looked over at House sitting in the living room chair and raised an eyebrow. "No comment, but you never did fall in love with the nice ones, did you?"

Susan giggled and shook her head.

"I think you can return to work next week if you want, part time though. Maybe we should limit it to your teaching assignments and then add back with patients next month. That's only twelve days from now."

"I never thought I'd say it, but I miss work. I want desperately to get out of here." Susan sighed.

They both watched as House got up and went into the bedroom to take a shower before going to work.

"I need to get to work." Finley said.

Susan reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Fin…"

"Yes?"

"Greg's been acting strange."

"Oh?"

"He's been very attentive. Like he's trying extra hard."

"Extra hard? To do what?"

"Be there for me…be nice."

"You're complaining?"

"I'm worried. I think being arrested may have really had an impact on him."

Finley tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn't. "Susan, I doubt seriously that this is House's first time in jail. I think he's just trying to show you how worried he is. He almost lost you."

Susan looked at Finley for a moment and then nodded. "You're probably right."

"Christ, are you still here? You're harder to get rid of than cockroaches. When are we going to get our mornings back? I like to walk around naked in the mornings, air the boys out." House growled from the hall as he stood dripping wet wrapped in a small towel.

"Greg! Finley saved your butt. Don't talk to her like that!"

Finley tried hard not to show how hurt she was. She had thought they were going to at least tolerate each other after what they had been through. "Don't worry Greg, this is my last housecall. Susan is doing very well. You officially have your mornings back." Finley closed her bag, gave Susan a kiss on the cheek and then stood up.

House stared at her as if she was a nuisance. Walking to the door, she turned and looked back. House waved his hand to shoo her away. Gathering her pride, she straightened her shoulders and left.

House began to breathe again. There was something about her that made him anxious whenever she was around. Was he afraid that she'd tell Susan about the kiss? No. It takes two to kiss and it would damage her relationship with Susan as much as it would his. Looking deeper he realized he felt guilty. But, he wasn't sure what he felt guilty about? Was it that he kissed Susan's best friend? Or did it bother him that after he kissed Susan's best friend, he ignored her—went back to Susan? That was too much for House to scrutenize for now. Deferring an analysis of his feelings felt like the right thing to do.

Finley's feelings were on edge; she felt as if anything could trigger some emotional meltdown. She found herself snapping at orderlies, crying during examinations and throwing food at the television whenever programs about relationships came on. Despite the fact that she had only been in Princeton for six months, she wanted to get away. She really wanted to move back to California, but her contract with PPTH was for one year.

* * *

"Finley! Wait up!"

Finley turned around to see House and Susan crossing the parking lot towards her, Susan smiling and waving, House taciturn. She felt her stomach cramp and her heart speed up, but she managed to give her a forced smile.

A pink cheeked Susan, cold wind blowing her long blonde hair across her face, raced up to Finley and hugged her. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd grab a bite and then a movie."

"By yourself?" Susan was stunned that Finley was alone on a Saturday night.

The truth was that Finley had received a couple of invitations to go out from men, but none that interested her. She had found that after her painful breakup three years ago, she was very picky when it came to men. She didn't want to make the same mistake again. "I don't mind."

"Greg and I were going to get some dinner too. Come with us."

Finley looked up at House and could see that he wasn't in favor of the idea. "No, I don't want to intrude."

"We never get to see you even though you only live downstairs, come on!"

Finley wanted to mention that it was a two way street; Susan could use the same elevator and come see her, but neither of them made the trip. Finley didn't know why Susan didn't make more of an effort. She knew that House was not fond of her and she stayed away from Susan's loft because of him—him and her feelings for him.

"She doesn't want to…don't push it." House admonished.

"Maybe we could have lunch this week." Finley suggested.

Susan started to cry. "I know you two hate each other but I would have thought what happened to me would bring you together…at least to a point where you could stand to be in the same room."

Finley and House both looked down at the ground, ashamed.

"Okay, fine. I'll join you for dinner."

House rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Great!" Susan bubbled, grabbing Finley's arm with hers. They went to Big Fish Seafood Bistro and waited half an hour at the bar until their table was ready. In the booth, House sat on the outside of the bench facing Finley. Susan was on the inside, leaning over to talk to Finley.

"I don't understand why we don't see more of you."

'_We' being the operative word._ "I'm just busy and I'm sure you'd rather spend time with Greg."

"No truer words were ever said." House commented.

"Finley, really, we'd love for you to stop by…any time."

"We'll see."

House finally made eye contact with Finley. "Cuddy said something to Chase about you asking if you could buy out your contract."

Finley winced; she knew what Susan's reaction would be.

"_What?" _Susan looked at House and then at Finley as they stared at each other. "No! You can't leave!"

Finley put her head in her hand and exhaled loudly. "Susan, I miss life in California."

Susan swallowed hard and tried to hold her tears back. "Finley, this is my fault. I haven't been a very good friend. I've been so caught up in my own drama that I haven't realized that you're here all alone."

"Oh come on, she's not a fourth grader in a new school. She's a big girl; she can make new friends on her own, she can be a bloody nuisance to someone else."

"_Shut up_, Greg." Susan snapped. "Finley, I swear I'll spend more time with you. I swear I'll be a better friend. I'm so sorry. Please, just don't go."

"You don't have to worry, Lisa turned me down. She claims that several grants are tied into me staying the full year."

Susan's shoulders relaxed. "Good, then I don't have to worry. I can make it my job to see that you stay even longer."

I glanced briefly at House who seemed absolutely mortified by her statement. The idea of Susan spending time with me meant that he would see less of Susan and more of me, something he didn't relish for whatever reasons.

"Susan, I'm not a special interest project."

"No, you're my best friend and I've been a poor one."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Too Much of a Good Thing**

We got off the subject of friendship and ate our dinners. House remained quiet for most of the dinner. Susan insisted on going to the movies with me whereas House ditched the movie in favor of doing just about anything other than sitting next to me in a dark theater. After the movie, Susan and I sat in my car in the garage of our lofts and talked until midnight. We both had a rough time. Susan was having a hard time getting back out into the world after the attack. For some reason, it had really bothered her that three people she more or less trusted, had tried to kill her. Me, on the other hand, was just plain lonely for company.

It made me think. Perhaps my attraction to House was triggered by my loneliness—the old, 'love the one you're with' syndrome. I needed to start making more of an effort to get out so that Susan didn't think she had to babysit me.

The next day there was a knock on my door. I got up and opened it to find Susan standing in the hall dressed to go outside in the cold, snowy weather. "Come on, get dressed. We're going for a walk."

I looked out my window to see nothing but white obscuring my view of the next building. "Are you joking? It's coming down hard outside."

"I love to walk when it's snowing. Come on Miss California; get your ass in gear."

I moped back inside and started layering my body. Once we got outside I noticed she had a little backpack with her which I was sure contained water, a billfold and other items for a long trek. We started walking through the park, talking about things that women talk about. Eventually the conversation came around to House.

"He confuses me. I don't know from one day to the next what's going on in that brain." Susan said with a hint of exasperation.

"He seems to really care."

"He never tells me anything."

"Has he told you that he loves you?"

"No."

"Oh." I was surprised. Susan is big on knowing just where she stands on a guy's emotional ladder.

"I'll tell you what really bothers me--his attitude towards you. Right after he was cleared of my attack, he said some rather complimentary things about you and then--bam!--he did a 180 degree turn. He was back to making fun of you. I don't know why he doesn't like you."

"Probably because I got him fired."

"That was years ago and he's gone through better hospitals than that and now he's king of the hill at PPTH. He has nothing to complain about. You did him a favor by getting him fired."

"Still, he strikes me as having a long memory."

"Perhaps, but if he'd only get to know you."

I shrugged and then shivered, pulling my scarf around my neck as a mean wind picked up. "You know I'm not exactly sure how I feel about him. I thought we had called a truce too, but obviously I was wrong. It's clear he doesn't want to be around me."

"So you're okay with him?"

I had to lie. In the flattest voice I could manage I said, "I'm ambivalent."

"Well, that's to be better than running into your room and slamming the door every time Greg walks in."

I chuckled. "Yes, I have made progress."

"I'm so sorry I haven't been around. I let my relationship with Greg and my panic attacks after the stabbing keep me from being a good friend to you. I dragged you out—"

"Whoa, did you just say that you had panic attacks?"

She nodded. "I was having them every night before I went to bed. If it wasn't for Greg talking me down, helping me, I don't know what I would have done."

"You could call me!" My voice was a little taut considering I was upset that she didn't think she could talk to me about it.

"When they hit me it was always late at night and Greg was there, he took care of me. But I didn't want to go out in case one hit while I was out. I don't have them as frequently now."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was embarrassed. I've always been so strong, fearless, but this just took the wind out of my sails."

I grabbed her and hugged her. "I'm so sorry. I should have checked in with you." I wanted to tell her the truth. It was Greg I was avoiding, not her. I didn't want to be around a man who could kiss me like that and then call me every cruel thing in the book as if I were gum under his shoe.

"Hey, it's okay; we'll move forward from here."

I looked her in the eye. "I'm glad that Greg was there for you."

"Me too."

"So have you told him you love him?"

She shook her head. My jaw dropped. "What? Why?"

"It's never felt right. I really care about him; sometimes I'm in love with him. But he's such a prickly pear and such a loner sometimes. It's like he's in his own world most of the time and I'm not allowed in. He's always working or reading medical journals or playing piano. And then, when we do socialize, he rubs everyone the wrong way. It's hard to take him anywhere."

I started laughing even though the moment was a serious one. "I'm sorry. It just that it reminds me of the parable of the snake and the turtle—"

She smirked and nodded. "I knew he was a snake when I let him ride on my back."

"Yeah, that one."

"I agree. But I don't know where to go from here. I care too much to break it off, but I don't know how long we can go on like this without making some changes."

"Oh, I don't know Suz, I don't think Greg House does "change" too well."

She started laughing. "Tell me about it. You wouldn't believe what a creature of habit he is."

"I think I would. Suz, my feet are getting cold, can we go back? I'll make you some hot chocolate."

"I brought some in my thermos in the back pack."

"That's really nice, but I'd still like to drink it somewhere warm."

She grinned and nodded.

* * *

I was in the middle of prepping for surgery when my surgical nurse banged on the door. "We've got trouble. House is trying to push his way into our O.R. but we're all set up for our patient."

"What!" I was at the sink scrubbing, holding my hands up as the water ran down to my elbows and dripped off onto the floor. "Damn him." Bumping my butt against the door, it opened and I found my intern with his arms spread across the doors to the O.R. and the resident screaming at House and Chase.

Greg yelled back, "What about -- 'He's dying'-- that you don't understand?"

"My patient's heart could give out any day. He needs this operation." I screamed.

"Yeah, well my patient's appendix just burst and the other three operating rooms already have patients in the middle of operations."

"So the great diagnostician failed to diagnose appendicitis?" I yelled.

House motioned over at Chase, "No, the great surgeon failed to."

"Oy, wait a minute, Thirteen was the last one to –"

I held up a hand to stop Chase. The reality was that House's patient did trump mine, but I hated him for that, he _knew_ I'd give in. "Gary, Luke, back away. Chase, go scrub up and let me know when you're done. Do you want Gary to assist?"

"Sure." Chase nodded, knowing that I was being generous.

My intern looked befuddled.

"Get in there and scrub up, Gary. You need the practice. When he's done, start prepping the O.R. for our surgery. Luke, you notify the surgeons behind us that there's going to be a two hour delay down the line. Greg, you're buying me lunch."

"_What?"_

"Don't 'what' me…I'm hungry and you're buying me lunch."

He hesitated, but then he nodded. We went down to the cafeteria and I piled up on the most expensive food offered. I waited until he reluctantly pulled out his wallet and paid $16.93 for my lunch.

"You didn't get anything?" I asked.

"I figure I'll share yours."

"Yeah? Well you figured wrong." I took a seat and he sat across from me, staring around the room, avoiding eye contact.

"Greg, why do you hate me so much?"

"Huh? Sorry, wasn't paying attention, I was just pondering why you're so fat, but looking at that plate I think we both know why."

I grabbed a fry and purposefully stuck it in my mouth.

"You want to know why I can't stand you?"

I nodded.

"You're boring, opinionated and sometimes, downright idiotic. I might be nicer if you were smarter, but as it stands, you're a few fries short of a Happy Meal."

House didn't think I was stupid and we both knew it, but he felt a real need to try and hit my buttons if he could and, for most women, making fun of their appearance and their intelligence usually does the trick.

"Oh grow up, Greg. You're just a disappointed narcissist."

The edges of his lips curled involuntarily as he leaned half way across the table. "Well, you're slower than a herd of turtles making their way through chunky peanut butter."

I leaned in, "You have all the maturity of a wine that was bottled yesterday."

He studied my face and for a second I thought he might kiss me, but he pulled back and shook his head. "This is all so exciting, but I have to go wash my hair." Jumping up he took off towards the door.

As he left the cafeteria, I stuffed half a banana in my mouth and pouted. I was confused. He just spent twenty minutes dipping my pigtails in the ink well and then left without inviting me to the school dance. Did he really hate me? Probably.

* * *

"Greg says you stiffed him for lunch today."

"I made him buy me lunch for usurping my O.R. I bought a huge lunch just to put a hole in his pocket. Is he mad?"

"I don't think so. He just said he knows why you're so fat."

I rolled my eyes.

"I know. In fact, you look like you've lost weight."

"Only a couple of pounds."

"I found a man for you."

I choked on my Diet Coke. "You did?"

"He's dreamy. He's an Osteopath."

"Really? How interesting."

"He's helping me treat my patient's lymphoma."

"Does he have a name?

"Paul St. John. He's about forty, very handsome, kind and funny. I can't get over how gentle he is with the kids he treats. He's coming over for dinner tomorrow night and so are you." I also invited Wilson and his new girlfriend. Be there at seven."

"Oh, God. I wish you would have checked with me before you did this."

"You would have said no."

"Yeah, you're right."

* * *

I spent half an hour picking out what to wear and ended up slipping on my designer jeans and a deep blue silk blouse. I knew Susan would pass out when she saw me, but I just didn't feel like dressing up. Taking a bottle of wine as a hostess gift to Susan is like giving the queen costume jewelry. So, I always take her desert. I had baked a fruit strudel with custard, kiwis, strawberries, blueberries and banana. When I knocked on the door, House opened it, looked down at the strudel, took it from me and closed the door. It happened so quickly I wasn't sure what to do. I knocked again. This time Susan opened the door shaking her head. She was in a very sexy jumpsuit with a draped top that showed plenty of cleavage. Her hair was up on her head with tendrils dripping down delicately in the back. She looked beautiful.

"He's a nuisance. You made my favorite strudel! I love you!" She grabbed me, hugged me and then pushed me back a few feet into the hall to examine me. "You look like crap. Come on, I've put an outfit out on my bed for you."

I followed her into the bedroom.

"Now don't come out until you've put it on…the jewelry is on the dresser." Susan closed the door leaving me alone in the bedroom.

I looked at the outfit and was a little surprised, in the mid of winter she had me in a satin halter top with black palazzo pants. The halter plunged past my breasts making me feel both sexy and embarrassed. My ankle boots weren't the best fit for the pants, but they weren't the worse. The earrings dangled almost to my shoulders and the lipstick that had a post-it on it that read, "Put Me On" was a pretty coral that looked good with the spring green top. I played a little with my hair and when I stepped out of the room I felt like a model--the first time in my life I felt just as hot as Susan. My shoulders were pulled back and I tried to "own" the outfit.

Greg was in the kitchen leaning up against the counter drinking a glass of what must have been a very expensive red wine when I walked out. He took one look at me and burst out laughing, wine coming through his nose.

Susan immediately turned to see what he was laughing at, realized that it was me and then slapped Greg's arm. "Greg? Stop that!"

My heart stopped and I could feel myself blush from head to toe.

"Look at her. She's a Susan wannabe!" He said in his defense.

I guess the look on my face showed just how humiliated and hurt I was because Susan shook her head slowly. "Oh, Greg, that's really cruel."

It was cruel, but even crueler considering it was coming from Greg. I turned and ran back to the bedroom, grabbed my own clothes and hightailed it down the stairs to my flat, locking myself inside. Safe in my home, I vowed that I'd never, ever go out again.

I took off Susan's clothes as fast as I could and even broke a strand of the dangling earrings trying to remove them so quickly. I grabbed a robe and wrapped myself like a cocoon to keep me away from all the predators and cruel assholes.

There was a knock.

I didn't answer.

Susan's muffled voice came through. "Finley, sweetie, please come back, please?"

I didn't answer.

"Honey, he's a jerk sometimes. I'm really sorry. Please let me in."

"Susan, just go away. I'll return your things tomorrow."

"I don't want them, you keep them."

"No. I'm not a Susan wannabe."

"I know you aren't. Please open the door, please."

"Just let me be for now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"But sweetie, we have a really nice guy coming over to meet you. Come on."

"I'm already undressed and in my pajamas. Just tell him I have a stomach virus or have House explain how I'm a runner-up version of you. I don't care."

"Oh, Fin. I'm really sorry."

Nothing more was said, I heard the footsteps going away from the door. I didn't even feel like eating even though a few minutes ago I was starving. I grabbed a glass of wine and sat down with my laptop in front of the television and started Googling positions in California. I heard something, but I wasn't sure what it was. Turning around, I looked down the hall at the front door and freaked out as I saw it open. I put my laptop on the coffee table and looked around for a weapon only to see the cane come through the door.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Get out of my flat before I call the police."

"Right, then you'll have to explain why I have a key to your place."

I flinched. "How did you get a key to my place?"

"When you gave me one while I was staying here."

"But I got it back—oh, you made a copy?"

He walked over to the couch and sat down, nodding as he did. "Don't feel bad, I have a key to Wilson's too."

"Yes, but I took back my permission for you to use a key when I got the key back!"

"Really, I didn't hear that. I voluntarily gave you that key if you remember."

"But—" It didn't matter, I wasn't going to win. I collapsed on the sofa at the other end away from him. "Just give this one back and leave—now."

"I can't go back without you or my relationship with Susan is over."

"Good." I said with as much contempt as I could muster.

"Maybe good for you, but I need this."

"You're an ass and a jerk, you don't deserve Susan."

"I'm an ass because I told the truth?" He rolled his eyes and tsked at me. Turning on the couch he threw his hands up in exasperation. " Why do you let Susan dress you? You looked hot in your jeans and top when you showed up tonight. It looked like _you_, not some Barbie Doll. It's just a dinner party. I'm in jeans. Half the people up there are in jeans. Only Susan can get away with looking like she stepped out of a Hollywood studio and that's because we expect it from her. You're real. _Just be you_."

"I'm not good enough being me. At least, I feel that way. I always lose out to her."

His face softened. "You're going to find someone who wants you because you do wear jeans, you are blunt, pragmatic, loygal and you're fierce when you have a goal. I've never met someone who has so much confidence on her own and so little around her best friend."

"It's because Susan and I can let down our guards around each other. I can't be a rock 24/7…I need to be weak some of the time."

Greg thought about it and gave me the tiniest nod of understanding. "I liked you better when we were in the car running around Philadelphia playing Myrna Loy to my William Powell."

"We had a common goal; it was easy to like each other then. Not so easy now."

"Bull. Look at you. I walked in here and your entire body was tense, ready to pounce. Your jaw was locked, eyes razor sharp. In less than five minutes you've relaxed, your body language has changed completely. You feel at ease around me."

"You do too!" I said defensively.

He threw his head back and laughed. "Yeah, I admit it. We're better together one on one. Whenever we're in a crowd I just feel the need to go for your throat."

"Why?"

He looked intently at me. "I don't know. I just don't know. From day one when you were a resident there was something about you that made me want to take you down a few notches."

I shook my head. He was being honest with me, but I still didn't have any answers. I did feel a connection with him. It felt like when we were back running around trying to prove him innocent. I think he felt it too because we both just sat there for a minute without saying anything, sadly enjoying just being in the same room with each other.

"You said you need this. Why?"

"Need what?"

"Your relationship with Susan."

"I'm fifty, I don't want…" He ran out of steam.

"To end up alone? I know what you mean. I thought by now I'd be running around with a couple of kids in the backseat. Instead I'm still relying on Susan to pull someone for me."

House shook his head. "Susan is gorgeous, smart, she's a nine. But not every man out there wants a Susan. There's lots of guys who want someone who isn't high maintenance and Susan is high maintenance."

I chuckled. "Yeah, she is. But she knows she's high maintenance and she's trying hard not to make you her maintenance man…so to speak."

"You aren't high maintenance and there's lots of guys out there who are going to find that more attractive than being a nine on the looks scale. Are you feeling it girlfriend?" He said in his best Monique accent.

I nodded.

"Now I don't mind if you come up in your robe as long as I get to pull on the belt, but you might want to change. I'll see you in five?"

I took a deep breath. "I guess."

He got up and pocketed the key covertly as he walked by the end table. I was going to say something, but it didn't really matter. I had a feeling he'd just poach Susan's key to my flat from her key ring if he wanted to get back into my flat.

I went into the bedroom and started to put the palazzo pants back on, but I heard Greg's voice and the genuine feeling behind the words. "_You looked hot in your jeans and top when you showed up tonight. It looked like you, not some Barbie Doll."_ I grabbed the jeans and put them on with Susan's halter top…because, well, I really liked the top and felt hot in it.

I squared my shoulders and made my way back up to the flat. Susan practically flew into my arms to welcome me. "I didn't believe he could do it! I never thought you'd ever come back for Greg!" She pulled back and looked at me. "Oh? You wore the jeans."

"Yeah, I wore the jeans because I rock them."

She tilted her head as if she didn't understand me, but then her smile popped back on her lips and she nodded. "You do… you really do. That outfit looks much more like you."

She dragged me into the living room and standing there was the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. Imagine Louis Jordan when he was young with crystal blue eyes and an incredible physique. He was probably forty and when he smiled…everything in my groin lit up. I didn't even know if he sounded like Donald Duck and I was ready to run off with him to the nearest bedroom. The man dripped sex appeal.

"Finley Doyle, this is Paul St. John."

And then he opened his mouth and the most delicious British accent came out. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. Susan can't say enough good things about you."

"Oh, as long as she says good things and not that I'm a good girl." I said with a slightly naughty grin.

I saw Greg's eyebrows go up and his head pull back in surprise. A slightly appreciative grin crossed his face and…_he winked at me!_

I guess Susan thought that Greg and I were the best of friends now because she sat him next to me and Paul on my right. Wilson, Cuddy and their guests lined the opposite side of the table. All night long Greg made rude comments about me and just about everyone else secretly in my ear so that only I could hear them. I kept suppressing laughs all night. I felt like we were in a bunker together.

After several glasses of wine, I was no longer suppressing my laughs. I just giggled for the next fifteen minutes until I felt a hand on my back, and not just a hand on my back, but a finger drawing along my shoulder blade. I was hoping it was Paul, but I couldn't be sure so I looked around and discovered that it was Paul. When I looked back at House he was watching Paul doodle on my back and giving me a look that seemed to say he was amused.

When my gaze met Paul's he stopped, pulled his arm from around the back of my chair and blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't even realize I was doing that."

I giggled, "It felt good."

He grinned and then leaned in. "Would you like to go out next Friday?"

I don't know why I blushed, but I did. "Sure."

"Give me your number and address; I'll pick you up at seven."

Eventually we all made our way to the living room where Paul and I spent most of our time on the sofa talking about movies and politics. I don't think either of us lost any respect for the other even though our opinions differed on several subjects. Greg went off in the corner and played piano. When it was all over I floated home, happy that Greg had talked me into going back to the party.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**A New Day**

When Paul St. John showed up to pick up Finley, he found Gregory House sitting on the front step to the building, as if he was waiting for someone.

"Hello House, waiting?"

House nodded.

"For who?"

"You." House said without flinching. Using his cane, he got to his feet.

"Why?"

"Look, you're taking out Susan's best friend and, frankly, she's been making herself a real pain in the ass. The happier she is, the happier Susan is, get my drift?"

"Okaaay?" He responded with skepticism.

"I just wanted to give you a few pointers. For example, Finley loves sushi, hates men who try to make all the date decisions, needs lots of compliments and well, this sounds strange, and,t really kinky in bed…swear to God, I heard her tell Susan how upset she was when her last date took too long to jump her bones."

"I see. Well, thanks for the tips." There was definitely a look of suspicion on his face as he continued into the building. Knocking on the door, Finley opened and was pleased to see that Paul had chosen nice tailored slacks, a long sleeved shirt and a multi-colored Italian sweater under his leather jacket, gloves and scarf. "Are you ready?"

Finley nodded. "Yes, so where are we going?"

"I know a great Sushi restaurant down the road. I thought we'd go there. You like Sushi, don't you?"

"Not really."

Paul rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I knew it."

But what Paul didn't know was that the only thing House had lied about was Sushi. House knew that Paul would test his veracity with the easiest issue, Sushi or not? Now Paul was certain that House had been lying . Now he knew that Finley liked to control the decisions in the relationship, she was parochial about sex and she liked to be lavished with compliments. Paul felt as if he now had a dating manual, the key to Finley's heart.

They went to dinner where they managed to forge through the 'getting to know you' questions and on to a jazz bar where, after a few drinks, they began to open up about their fears, their goals and the things that meant the most to them. By the time they got back to the loft, Paul barely gave Finley a kiss on the cheek, but did ask her out for the following week.

"Where would you like to go?" He asked.

Finley was taken a little off guard. "Well, I've been here less than a year and, frankly, most of what I do is just work and go home and collapse so I don't really know."

He was a little hesitant. "Maybe we could talk about it next week and you might have an idea of what you'd like to do."

"Okay."

* * *

"You smell and look great."

"Yes, thank you." This was the third time he had mentioned how pretty or well groomed she was.

It wasn't until after the third date that Susan came down to spend an afternoon with her watching chick flicks, to check on her progress. She gave it fifteen minutes before her curiosity got the better of her.

"Well? How is Paul?"

Finley winced. "I'm not sure. He practically forced me to make the decision where we ate and then moaned the whole time we were there about not liking Thai food. But, despite hating my choice, he complimented me excessively on how coordinated my outfit is, how pretty my hair looks, how nice—"

"You're complaining that he compliments you?"

"I'm complaining that it seems insincere and it's so excessive. I don't think he really finds me sexually attractive."

"Did he say that?"

"No, it's because he barely gives me a kiss and then bolts out of here like a guy shot out of a cannon!"

"Hmmm."

* * *

When Finley got to work, House was surprisingly lurking around the surgical ward. "Greg? Do you have a patient up here?"

"I was just checking to see if there was an O.R. available for exploratory surgery."

Finley nodded, but she wasn't convinced.

"I hear someone doesn't find you very attractive." He said out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?"

"Hey, did you ever think he might be gay?"

"Paul? No! He's not gay."

House continued to talk out of the side of his mouth as if he was trying to be discreet. "Well, does he have a hard time making decisions? Does he pay more attention to your looks, your clothes than you? Has he made any attempt to get in your pants?"

"None of your business."

"I'd have jumped you the first date."

"Yeah, well we all know what a gentleman you are."

But House saw that he had planted a little seed of doubt in her head.

By the fourth date, things had hit critical mass. Finley was frustrated and confused by Paul's lack of interest in sex and his incessant comments about her wardrobe and hair.

She dialed Susan. "Can we have lunch?"

"Sure."

It seemed like forever until noon. Susan was several minutes late getting down to the cafeteria. When she arrived she looked around and saw Finley waving to let her know where she was. Susan went through the cafeteria line before sitting down with Finley.

"What's up?"

"Do you think that Paul is gay?"

Susan laughed out loud. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not joking. He talks a lot about my clothes, my hair, my looks—how put together I am. He hasn't done anything but give me a lukewarm kiss and he has a really hard time making decisions."

Now Susan was baffled. "You're on your fourth date and he's still just kissing?"

"No, we're not really making out; he gives me a good night peck and runs." Sitting back in the booth, Finley could see that Susan was even more baffled than her. "What aren't you telling me?" Finley asked.

Susan looked around and shook her head. "You can't tell Greg, okay?"

Finley nodded. "Paul and I went out a few times before I hooked up with Greg. He had to leave for a few months to go home to England so our relationship went on hold. By the time he got back, I was with Greg. But, there was a real spark between us and honey, he's _hot_ in bed."

"How many dates before you two ended up do the horizontal mambo?"

She winced and shrugged her shoulders. "One. I was a real slut with him. We went out for dinner, came home for desert."

"Then it's me." Finley said, her shoulders collapsing. "He just doesn't find me attractive and all the compliments are to make up for it. Crap."

"Well, just turn up the heat the next time he asks you out."

Finley shook her head. "There's not going to be another date. He didn't ask this time and there wasn't even a, "I'll call.""

"Yikes."

Finley sighed as she pushed her shiny hair back with her fingers. "I thought we really hit it off at the dinner party. That's what's so frustrating. I thought I had good "Date Radar" and even that's gone. Susan, we have to talk."

"No, no…I know what you're going to say. Please don't go at the end of your contract, please? "

Finley looked down at the dirty cafeteria floors and shook her head. I'm miserable. I'm working so many hours to make a name for myself on the east coast and then when I'm off I don't seem to be able to make friends. This is so odd. I've never had trouble dating or meeting people before."

"But, Fin, it just takes a little longer on the east coast…with winter, it makes it hard to get out and do things. When your contract runs out, go month to month. If after next summer you're still miserable then go back to the west coast."

I sighed and tilted my head back, a headache starting. "I'll see, but …but don't count on it, okay?"

"No, _I am_ going to count on it. I really want you around."

**Dear Readers, The reviews make my day--thanks so much!"**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Heartburn**

In my mind, I was out of here as soon as my contract was up. I was not only lonely, but seeing Susan and Greg together had begun to wear me down. It was like a repeat of what I had left in Los Angeles, seeing someone I cared about with someone else…in this case it was worse because I felt guilty for my infatuation with Greg House. There was no logic behind it. He was rude, vulgar and mean, yet here I was, wishing he'd kiss me again.

Susan came down to borrow some coffee the next morning. She looked cute in her moose pajamas and her hair sticking up. I handed her the coffee and asked, "So what are you guys up to this week?"

"Not much, Greg hasn't been feeling well."

"Virus?"

"Heartburn."

A chill ran down my back. "Susan, are you sure it's heartburn?"

"He's the diagnostician, that's what he says. Plus it started after we had a huge Indian meal."

"How long?"

"Night before last."

"Is he _sure_ it's heartburn?"

Susan rolled her eyes, but when she looked at how serious I was, she dropped her grin. "What are you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing. You know me…someone has a hangnail and I think it's related to a cardiovascular problem."

Susan chuckled. "Greg doesn't really exercise that much, but he's active. We have sex a lot--"

"Whoa, too much information."

"And he's thin…doesn't really smoke except the occasional cigar. I don't think you have to worry."

"You're probably right." I patted her on the back, but as soon as she left I called James Wilson.

Jim had been dating a very nice judge who had just been appointed to the bench the year before. He seemed very happy, even putting on a little weight from spending so much time at her house and cooking together. I envied them just like I envied all the people in relationships around me.

"Hi, James, it's Finley."

"Finley, what's up?"

"I need information about House."

"Uh-oh. What did he do?"

I had to laugh; it seemed to be the universal reaction to anything to do with Greg. "Nothing. I just need to ask. What caused the infarction in his leg?"

"They aren't quite sure because by the time they diagnosed it, the original cause was gone, but it was either a clot or blockage."

"Did they mention PAD?"

"It was a possibility, but he was young and there was no history in his fam…" His voice faded away.

"James?"

"I just thought of something but I don't know if I can talk about it."

"About what?"

"Well, they checked his family history when it happened, but his father, the one they checked, wasn't his biological father."

"Really? Who is?"

There was a deep silence.

"James? Who is?"

"A Unitarian Minister. Finley, what's going on?"

I sighed and wondered if he'd think I was making a mountain out of a molehill. "Greg has heartburn."

"And?"

"He's had it for a few days."

"I'm not getting it."

"He had an infarction in his leg and now he has heartburn."

"You think he might have had peripheral arterial disease and now it's in his heart?"

"Yes, but before I incur the wrath of House, I'd like to have more ammunition when I confront him. He is young, but not too young. I'd like to talk to his father and get a history from him."

"House and his father haven't connected. His biological father doesn't know that House knows that he's his father. Heck, we don't know if his father knows that House is his son."

"I want his name and phone number. I'll call as if I'm conducting a medical survey, something like that."

I could hear breathing, but no response.

"You know he'll just dismiss me if I don't have more than heartburn to go off of when I confront him." I offered.

"Fine."

* * *

After receiving the information from James, I Googled the name I was given, found a phone number and had a fifteen minute conversation with Greg's real father. Nice and cooperative doesn't even begin to describe the man. He had a great sense of humor and from the way he responded to my questions, I could tell that he was intelligent and gregarious. His son, although intelligent, appeared to have very little in common with his Dad.

I called James and asked for backup. We went upstairs, me with my physician's bag, to see Greg and Susan. I knocked on the door and looked over at James. He was sedate, contemplative. He did not want to be here.

Susan opened the door and took one look at the bag and rolled her eyes. "It's just indigestion. In fact, he doesn't even have it now."

"Susan, just let me check him over." I said solemnly, pushing past her into the hall and then living room.

Greg was on the couch eating pizza and drinking a beer. On the television was some strange mixture of large trucks and people wrestling. He narrowed his eyes and looked at me sideways.

"What's with the bag?"

"I want to give you an examination. I think you're having unstable angina and I need to examine you."

He gave me a look of amusement as he sat back in the sofa, his arm draped down the arm of it. He looked like Caesar waiting for the jugglers to begin. "What makes you think I have angina?"

"Your leg infarction, your heartburn and your family history."

Wilson winced and Greg took note of it. "Family History? What family history?"

"Your father's history of hypercholesterolemia."

"That's genetic. My father died of colon cancer."

Wilson grimaced. "House, we're talking about your biological father."

House shook his head and grilled James, "You talked to my biological father?"

I jumped between them. "I did. I didn't mention you at all. I introduced myself and told him that I was conducting research and surveying men across the United States. His father died at fifty-two of heart disease. Your father has high cholesterol. He's was diagnosed in 1980 when he had an acute myocardical infarction at the age forty-seven. Your leg infarction was most likely the result of atherosclerosis as a result of hypercholesterolemia. When was the last time you had your cholesterol checked?"

"When I entered Mayfield."

"And?"

"It was high, but they put me on Zocor. The counts came down."

"I'm going to listen to your heart and draw blood."

"And who said you could? Do you think I don't know the symptoms of angina?"

"Fine, prove me wrong. Let me take your blood test and listen to your heart."

He gave Susan a look of annoyance.

"Greg, do it for me. Okay?" Susan begged, her voice full of worry.

He rolled his eyes and looked extremely annoyed, but sat up forward for me to examine him. I pushed the pizza and beer to the side and sat on the coffee table in front of him, pulled out my stethoscope and waited as he pulled up his t-shirt revealing his chest covered with curly gray and white hair. I tried to warm the metal of the stethoscope, but he still flinched from the cold when I placed it on his chest. I couldn't look in his blue eyes and listen at the same time so I looked directly at his left nipple. I had him cough, I listened, I had him breath in and out rapidly and listened. I made him turn around and put the stethoscope on his back and listened.

"You can put your shirt down now." I said as I removed the stethoscope from my ears.

"Now are you happy? I'm fine." He said.

I turned to Susan. "Susan, do you have an aspirin?"

It was as if I had just farted in the middle of room. Everyone gave me a look. They were doctors, they knew what I was suggesting. When Susan didn't move, I barked. "Susan! An aspirin!"

She jumped and ran to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. "I only have Tylenol." She yelled.

James jumped up. "I have some. I'll be back." He took off faster than the Road Runner.

"Give me that." Greg grabbed the stethoscope out of my hand and started to listen to his heart. His face grew darker. He looked around and then snorted. "Okay."

We stood up and he grabbed his jacket and a cap, putting them on as I packed up.

"I'll grab my jackets and drive you." I said quietly.

Susan grabbed onto Greg's arm, crying. "What is it?"

House patted her hand. "A blockage. I've been having stable angina. I just need to get it checked out. You can stay here."

"Like hell!" Susan said, running to the closet to get her jacket.

"Greg, once James gives you the aspirin, meet me in the garage and I'll drive everyone." I said.

"Wilson can drive us. You take your own car so that we have options on coming home."

I nodded, understanding that not all of us might come home at the same time.

We all managed to make it to the hospital and I immediately arranged for Greg to have an MRI. I went in with him, sitting in the booth as the MRI tech prepped the machine.

"It's a good thing we didn't bet." His voice came over the mike, his face smiling in the screen.

"Are you okay? Any tightness?"

"Not tonight. I had some last night and the night before. Did you really talk to my Dad?"

I hit the mike, "Yeah, he sounded very nice, Greg. Threw me off a little. I expected him to tell me to fuck off."

Greg laughed. "I would have."

"I know. But, you must have known something was wrong because you gave in and let me examine you without too much fuss."

"You made a compelling argument. I'm not an idiot."

"No comment."

"Ouch."

The MRI started up and the banging of the magnets made it impossible to talk. A few minutes later he was out of the machine and I was standing at the end of it waiting for him. He was dressed in a blue and white hospital gown, his hairy legs sticking out and looking rather shapely for a guy who didn't exercise much.

"Nice legs." I said, smiling.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"No, I know how hard Susan can hit. Do you want me to wheel you down to my office or walk?"

"I'll walk."

I handed him his cane and we started down the hall. "Well?"

I swallowed hard and told him calmly, "You have an 80 percent occlusion in the right coronary artery. I think angioplasty will work. I'm going to give you a new diet and we're going to figure out an exercise plan. You can't sit around on your ass anymore."

"I hope sex is part of your exercise plan."

"Of course you and Susan can have sex, but first let's do the angioplasty and then you'll need to wait about ten days. I'll probably put in a stent to keep the artery open. " We turned into the hall outside my office where Susan and Wilson were talking to Cuddy. After getting Greg's permission to discuss his condition in front of everyone, we all went into my office. I brought up the MRI on the monitor and turned it for everyone to see.

"There's one, possibly two blockages. I'm recommending angioplasty with a drug-eluted stent to keep it open. I am concerned about pain relief after the angioplasty. The best I can give you in light of your past addiction is Tylenol with Codeine. I'm going to leave the inducer in just in case there are complications in the first week or further blockages. You're going to be put on blood thinners. I'm going to add Mipomersen to your statins. I'll know more when I'm in there. Are you allergic to any dyes?"

He shook his head.

"Fine, then I'll schedule you for tomorrow afternoon. No food from here on out. They're going to admit you once we're done here." I stopped in my tracks. "Greg? I guess I should have asked, do you want me as your surgeon?"

He rolled his eyes again. "I'm not going to go surgeon shopping…you caught it, you fix it."

"Wow, what a wonderful vote of confidence."

He gave me that smile of his that let me know he approved of my humor, if not my surgical talents.

Susan burst out with, "Of course we want you…you're the best."

"Thanks Suz." I said. "Well, any questions?"

"Are you going through my arm or my groin?"

"Groin. It's a direct path to the blockage."

"Well, let's get this over with." House said.

Cuddy, looking far too worried, spoke up, "House, don't worry, I'll talk to your team and—"

"Frankly, I could give a damn about my patients and team. Right now I'm just trying to avoid dying before I win the lottery."

He was admitted and after an hour, he convinced Susan and Wilson to go home. I had a patient that needed some assistance, but I came back and discovered that he was finally alone watching television.

"You better go home and get some sleep. I want you fresh for the procedure." He said.

"I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

"Yeah. I'm comfortable."

"Fine, well, good night. Call if you need anything. " I started out of the room.

"Finley?"

I turned and smiled as I do for all my patients, to reassure them. "What, Greg?"

"I guess I should say thanks." He barely made eye contact and then turned to watch television again.

I laughed. "You're welcomed."

I went home, had a little snack and fell asleep on the couch. Around midnight I dragged my butt back to the bed and slept until three a.m. I got up to pee and when I came back to bed, I couldn't sleep. Around 3:30 am I turned on the television to see if it would put me to sleep, but it didn't.

At 3:45 am my phone rang.

"Anything."

I smiled at the sound of his voice. "Anything? What?"

"You said if I needed anything to call you."

"What's wrong, Greg?"

"I couldn't sleep. And obviously, neither could you."

"You know this because…"

"The T.V. in the back ground and your voice is too wide-awake."

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Oh, that begs for a wisecrack."

I chuckled, "Perhaps. Greg, you need to sleep."

"I will, tomorrow on the operating table. You need sleep more than me."

"I _was_ asleep until a few minutes ago."

"What are you wearing?"

I started laughing. "You should call Susan."

"I know what she's wearing. Nothing. She doesn't typically wear anything to bed. But, I bet you do. Probably an old t-shirt and granny panties."

Besides the fact that I was wearing plain cotton bikinis, he was right. "You're wrong. I'm wearing a shorty night gown with black lace."

"You're lying, but I like where you're going with this. Is it satin?"

"No, it's blue silk—" I shook my head. "Okay, that's enough. Give Susan a call. Goodnight, Greg." I started to hang up.

"Hey, Finley!"

"What, Greg?"

"I bet you look good in your t-shirt and granny panties."

There was a click. I lay in bed grinning, wishing he wasn't my best friend's boyfriend.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**Have a Heart**

I slept until six and then got up, did some exercise and took my shower. When I got to the hospital, Susan was already there, standing anxiously by Greg's bed and holding his hand.

"Still wearing those granny panties?" He asked when I walked into his room.

Susan wrinkled her brow with curiosity.

"No granny panties, just a nice silk thong with black lace."

"What's going on here?" Susan asked.

"Your boyfriend called me last night and swore I was wearing a t-shirt and granny panties to bed."

"You called? What was wrong, Greg?"

"I was bored and I knew you'd be asleep."

"And you knew Finley wouldn't be?"

"You told me that she has insomnia sometimes."

"That's true." Susan said, smiling. "Thanks honey, for not waking me." She gave him a kiss.

"Oh, so it's okay that he bothered me?" I asked.

"Finley, Greg's goal in life is to make you miserable and you know that."

I looked at Greg and gave him an evil smile. "Don't forget I'm going to be poking something up your groin this afternoon!" I teased.

"Don't even joke about things like that."

At one we took Greg into pre-op. After a few kisses from Susan and lots of laughing at Greg's expense about wired up his groin, I shooed everyone out of the room. I went over to House's bed and looked down at him. Despite giving him a local anesthesia, he would remain awake for the procedure.

"Are you ready, big boy?"

"Let's roll." He said.

I turned and he grabbed my hand, stopping me in my tracks. I faced him waited for him to say something, but all he did was squeeze my hand and then drop it. I smiled at him and took off to scrub up.

Angioplasty is a run of the mill procedure these days. I sent the catheter, which has a camera on it, up with a guidewire through the artery. Once it was near the heart, I shot the artery full of dye to view on the screen. I inspected the arteries then moved on to the valves before inspecting the left ventricle to see if it was beating properly. The dye was shot several times and then I mapped out the blockages while Greg watched with us on the screen. He said very little, but did complain of being uncomfortable about half way through the procedure. We gave him a boost of anesthesia before continuing. Greg had two blockages exactly where I thought they'd be. One wasn't that bad so I decided not to stent it. I sent the balloon up, inflated it, pushing the plaque that had formed up the blockage against the walls of the artery, creating an opening that allowed the blood to flow smoothly. The second time I sent the balloon through, I sent it with a stent on the outside. Once I inflated the balloon the stent expanded too, expanding and holding the walls of the artery open. I pulled out although I left the insert in the artery for easy access. We dressed the wound and I ordered the painkiller to be given.

Half an hour later I joined him in his room. It was filled with doctors from his team, Cuddy, Wilson and Susan. I was dressed in my scrubs and have to admit very tired. "Greg, keep your right leg straight for twenty-four hours. Drink plenty of fluids to get the dye out of your system. It went well, but there was a little damage to your heart muscle, not enough that it won't heal. You must have had a cardiac incident sometime in the last few months. You really need a change in diet and more exercise. I'm recommending the Mediterranean Diet for you because I know there's no way I'll get you to follow the Eisenhower Diet."

"You've got that damn straight." He said adamantly.

"Well, I'm going to get out of here. I'm really tired."

There was a flood of grateful 'thanks' from just about everyone. Despite being an ass, it was clear that House had his supporters and they were all in one room. I ducked out and finished rounds before taking off for home. Around six I received a call.

"What are you wearing?"

I put the Stouffer's single serve lasagna that I had just heated down on the coffee table and grinned. "What do you want?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt."

"Wow, did you say silk gown and no panties?"

"Dream on. How are you doing?"

"Leg straight, but the damn insert is driving me nuts. When are you going to remove it?"

"Just before you go home. Where's your posse?"

"I pretended to need some sleep and so I told them to all go home."

"Well, you've had a big day, you need some sleep."

"Come down and show me the video of the procedure."

"You saw it as it was happening."

"I was groggy."

"I just put my feet up; I'm eating dinner."

"Got any for me? They tried to serve me crap tonight."

"No, I have a single serving of frozen lasagna."

"Single serving? Man, if that doesn't scream loser, I don't know what does. Come on, pick me up a cheeseburger and bring me some food."

"You just had angioplasty! I'm not enabling you so that you die on me!"

"Oh, come on; just think of it as building a client base. The more saturated fats I eat, the more work for you."

"Greg, not funny." I said it as harshly as I could.

His voice went soft. "Come on, I'm bored and you're not boring."

"I thought you had a stack of medical journals."

"Yeah, but I've been through most of them."

"I'm going to go back to eating my dinner. You have a girlfriend, call her."

"Lousy bedside manner, doctor."

"Oh, that is rich coming from you. Goodnight, Greg."

"Goodnight, Fin."

Yes, I hung up and managed not to run down to the hospital to keep him company. It took everything in me not to jump into a pair of jeans and rush to his side for a few crumbs of his time, but I didn't. I knew he was just jerking my chain. He'd shooed Wilson and Susan away and now he was bored. Rather than admit it to them, he decided to see if I'd come running back, but I held fast.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Coming to Terms**

House hung up the phone and stared up at the ceiling. He had hoped he could goad her into coming down and entertaining him although he knew it wasn't really a good idea. She was interesting and he liked interesting. He knew what buttons to push with her, but it was the way she dealt with him that was so amusing. Even when he managed to upset her, she held her own and didn't give in to him. Had he called Susan, she would have been down at the hospital fawning over him, delivering a hamburger with fries and a shake. It wasn't that he was falling for Finley; it was just that she was something novel; a new toy. Or at least that's what he had to tell himself.

* * *

"I'm here to examine you." Chase said.

"Where's my doctor? She hasn't been in today." House growled, disappointed that Finley hadn't appeared.

"She's had back to back open heart surgeries because she canceled one of them to perform your angioplasty. One of them didn't go well, her patient died on the table and she's not exactly feeling like seeing you."

"Boo hoo. Tell her to suck it up and get her ass in her. I'm still her patient."

Chase called Finley on her cell phone. They spoke for a few seconds and then Chase handed the phone to House.

"Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"It ain't gonna happen. Grow up." Click.

House held the phone out and looked at it baffled. "She hung up on me."

Chase snickered. "Ewww…looks like you met someone who's not afraid of the big bad wolf."

* * *

"What is that?" Finley asked, her voice dripping with suspicion.

Susan winced. "Red Robin cheeseburgers and fries." She closed her eyes and waited for the screaming.

"Susan! He's just had angioplasty! He had an infarction in his leg, high cholesterol, an occlusion of 80% and you're buying him cheeseburgers and fries?"

The elevator opened on Finley's floor but she didn't get out, waiting instead for the door to close and take them to the penthouse.

"He asked for it!" Susan said, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

"Oh and you just batted your eyes and said, sure honey, anything I can do to hurry up your demise!"

"It's one cheeseburger!"

"I saw him in the cafeteria with chili cheese fries yesterday." Shaking her head, Finley narrowed her eyes at Susan. "No, no one spoils my good work with their crappy diet while I just stand by." Finley stormed towards the penthouse doors and waited for Susan to open them. She turned the keys slowly, as if she could make Finley go away if she stalled.

Finley pushed the door open and marched inside, finding House reclining on the sofa reading a journal.

"Did you get me ketchup with my fries?" He called out without looking up.

Finley yanked the journal out of his hand and stood over him with her hands on her hips and jaw set like a drill sergeant. "You piece of shit! An angioplasty is not a 'get out of jail free' card! You barely missed the bullet and if I hadn't come up here to check you out you'd be dead or disabled. If you eat that hamburger, you can say goodbye to your life as you know it. I swear; I'll find a way to make you my bitch."

House stood up, standing within inches of Finley. He pushed her aside, grabbed the bag of cheeseburgers and pulled one out, opening it with a dramatic flair and taking a huge bite out of it, chewing it with big, wide strokes so she could see the masticated meat in his mouth.

"When you want another operation, you remember this act of defiance. From now on, you're no longer my patient, I'm firing you." Finley said throwing her head back to emphasize the words.

"Finley—" Susan tried to interject herself.

"Butt out!" Both House and Finley yelled in unison.

Susan gave them both a look of disgust and sat down, eating her Red Robin salad.

House turned back to Finley. "Works for me. You're a lousy doctor anyway; you refused to come see me when I asked for you."

Finley knitted her brow, confused. "Excuse me? You never go see your patients after _you _cure them; so why should I come see you?"

"Because—I'm me and you're you."

Susan and Finley both tilted their heads waiting for an explanation of the explanation.

"I'm your best friend's boyfriend."

"Oh, so that's supposed to elevate you into a position over my other patients?"

He took another dramatic bite of the cheeseburger to rub it in.

"Fuck you, Greg. Find yourself a new cardiologist." She stomped down the hall and out the doors, fuming. It took an hour before she could even take a bite of her own dinner. Around ten she went to bed and lay there looking up at the ceiling. She could feel that her blood pressure was still elevated from the anger she was feeling. Finally, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind so that sleep could settle in.

At ten-thirty there was a frantic knock on the front door and the anxious voice of Susan. "Finley, Finley, you have to wake up."

Finely opened the door to find Susan, her eyes bugged wide open, hugging a robe around her body.

"It's Greg, there's something wrong!" She started breaking down.

Finley grabbed her bag and ran up the stairs, not waiting for the elevator. When she reached the top floor, she realized that she was dressed in a pajama set that consisted of a pale green sleeveless shirt made of thin material and the same pale green material for the shorts that matched. The top clung to her braless breasts, defining her nipples as well as the swell of her breasts. Assuming he was probably having a cardiac arrest, Finley barely gave her clothing a thought.

The door was already partially opened, so Finley pushed through and ran into the loft. House was sitting on the couch, his hand up to the midsection of his chest, his face contorted with pain.

"Greg, where does it hurt?"

He looked up and patted his sternum. "Like really bad heartburn again."

"Take your shirt off."

House pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his chest and the gray curly hair Finley found so appealing.

Pulling her stethoscope out, she put the ends in her ears and started to listen. It took her a minute, but she realized that his heart had begun beating faster and that underneath his cotton lounging pants was the beginning of an erection. Looking up at his face, she noticed his eyes were fixed on her nipples. She quickly ducked around to the back to listen. Pulling the stethoscope off, she sat down next to his knees and shook her head.

"What is it?" House asked.

"First of all, you better hide that hard-on before Susan walks through the door."

"Yeah, well next time don't where a flimsy piece of gauze without a bra underneath."

"Grow up."

Susan came running through the door. House bent one of his legs up to hide the obvious.

"What is it?" Susan asked, breathless.

"It's heartburn."

"What?" House asked, shocked.

"I hear nothing to indicate that there's a problem, but I'll stay for an hour just to make sure. Suz, do you have some antacids?"

Susan disappeared and reappeared with some Prevacid.

"Take two."

"You really think he's going to be okay?" Susan asked.

"No! Not if he continues to eat like this. Susan, you are an enabler. You need to start cooking for him."

"I don't have time for that."

"Then next time it's not going to be heartburn."

"He's a big boy, he can cook for himself." Susan said, giving House the 'evil eye.'

Finley nodded. "You're right."

"Well, if you're going to babysit him, I'm going to bed. I have a big day in the morning." She walked over and gave House a kiss on the crown of his head before grabbing a glass of water and taking it back to her bedroom.

He looked over at Finley. "Well now I can say it."

"What?"

"Nice nips."

"Oh, grow up!"

"You keep saying that as if it's going to make a difference."

"I don't know why I'm here."

"I don't know either; you fired me as your patient."

"Yeah, I know I did. So I'll just sit here as your overqualified babysitter."

"Well, we could play spin the bottle."

She didn't dignify it with a response. "Greg, I'm asking as your girlfriend's best friend, please start eating right and exercising."

Rolling his eyes, he hunched his shoulders. "I'm fifty, it's hard to change."

"I can give you guys some recipes, set up an exercise program."

"Boring."

"Not necessarily."

"You can go home; if I need _you_ I'll call Chase."

"Funny."

"No, really, the antacid is helping."

"Fine. I'll go. But, think about it. I'd hate to see my hard work undone."

"Why do you care? Don't you hate me?"

"I don't _hate_ you. I just don't _like_ you. I do like Susan and don't want to see her mourning your death and making you a martyr. I want her to have to live with you and realize that you're no prize and kick you out."

"You can leave now."

"Think about it."

Finley went downstairs and back to bed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Sergeant Doyle**

I finished my banana and mango smoothie and was about to start rounds when Susan popped through the door, closed it and sat down.

"I'm going away for three weeks."

"Three weeks?" I was shocked. "Why?"

"I have a one week seminar in Hamburg and then I have a chance to do some spring skiing in the Alps with Cara." Cara is Susan's second best friend, the British cousin who has a boatload of money just like Susan.

"What about Greg? Is he going?"

She shook her head. "He can't ski and doesn't think sitting waiting for me to finishing skiing each day would be much of a vacation. Wilson tells me he doesn't really like to travel much for vacation."

"Have fun."

She sighed, "I hope to, but I wanted to ask a favor."

I sat back in my chair, wondering if she expected me to take over her patients. What did I know about pediatric oncology? "What?"

"I want you to check on Greg, make sure he's okay. I'm still worried about his heart."

"He's a big boy. I'm not his babysitter. Besides, Wilson is just a few stories down, it's his job. I look in on you when House is gone; Wilson looks in on House when you're gone."

"Wilson isn't a cardiologist."

"He's a doctor."

"Finley, please?"

"Fine. I'll check in on occasion. You better give me your keys so I can sneak in and figure out what he's up to."

"I had a set made for you. Here." She handed the set of keys over to me. "Thanks Fin, I love you."

"When do you leave?"

"Thursday."

"Great." I said it with all the enthusiasm of a dental patient.

Susan, dressed in her pink polka dot scrubs, skidaddled off to peds while I picked up my charts and started making rounds. I had just finished the west wing and was about to examine my overnighters when I heard footsteps running up behind me. It was Wilson.

"I'm going to Germany for a seminar and wanted to know if you would watch my flat, get my mail, you know…all that."

"Same seminar as Susan?"

"Yeah. The board wasn't going to let me go until Susan expressed an interest in going. They can't let her go if they won't let me go, so…"

"You get to go. Congratulations."

"I'm going to take a few days off and fly to London at the end of the conference so I'll be gone ten days total."

"Okay." I said, not really thinking through what this meant. "Why don't you have House do it?"

"You can't really be asking that question, can you?"

"I guess I get it."

"Thanks Finley, I'll get you a key later."

"Fine. Have a good time."

By Thursday morning, I had two sets of keys and instructions on babysitting both Greg and James' apartment. I had no worries about the apartment, but being near Greg was something I needed to avoid. The first night went well, no one called me, James' security alarm didn't go off and I managed to sleep a full eight hours.

Friday's work load was light. I had one operation and three follow-ups and I was out of there. I stopped by the grocery store and purchased tomatoes, peppers, chicken, parmesan, pasta and a lot of other ingredients that needed chopping, sautéing and baking. Around five-thirty the door to Susan's loft opened and he walked in, his cane marking the sound of his entrance.

He walked in wearily, eyeing me as I continued to dice and slice. Putting his keys down and taking off his jacket, he threw it over the chair and shuffled over. His beard was a little heavier than usual and his shirt was a deep brown making his eyes look bluer. He walked warily up to the up to the island and watched as I cut up the red bell peppers.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm…We …are going to make a heart-healthy meal. Do you know how to sauté onions?"

He rolled his eyes at me and grabbed the recipe from the island, read it and walked over to a drawer. Getting an apron out of the drawer, he pulled a knife out of the butcher block and started chopping up an onion. We said nothing for the first five minutes and then he went over to Susan's Bose radio and turned it on.

I started singing along with Marvin Gaye as I put the chopped vegetables into a bowl. We worked like a well oiled machine, both chopping and preparing as if we had worked together in a kitchen for years. Greg began throwing spices into the sauce, spices that weren't on the recipe, but at least they were heart healthy. He even began to sing with me.

"You've cooked before." I said.

"What makes you think that?"

"The speed in which you diced that onion and flip the vegetables without a spatula. You're good."

"I'm not just good, I'm excellent. Here taste this."

I tasted it and felt foolish. Here I had come up to teach him to cook and he was a gourmet. "Why didn't you tell me you were a great cook?"

"Because you'd want me to cook for you."

I grinned at him. "No, because I'd want you to cook for Susan and, more importantly for yourself."

"Let's eat."

I cleared up a little and then put the food on our plates while Greg uncorked what had to have been a very expensive bottle of red wine because it came from bottom shelf of the red wine rack where Susan kept the really good stuff. We went over to the dining table next to the floor to ceiling windows and began handing things back and forth to each other without asking—salad dressing, pepper, the wine, the salad. It felt like we were a couple that had been together years.

"Greg, this is so good."

"Yeah, too bad you didn't have anything to do with it."

I kicked him under the table and he grinned.

"This is a good wine." He said.

"Yeah, probably about $100 a glass."

"_What?"_

"You took it from the bottom rung, that's where she keeps the 'special occasion' wine. For a Friday, that means $500-$1,000 a bottle."

"I knew it was a good winery, but –" He shrugged his shoulders and took a good chug.

"I know this sounds terrible considering what I'm drinking, but I prefer the hard stuff more. However, this is much better for your heart. In fact, try to avoid the hard stuff and stick to this."

He rolled his eyes at me. "I read the literature, doctor. I'm not an idiot."

"I disagree _doctor_, you are an idiot if you think you can continue to eat and drink like you used to."

"What, you think switching to wine is going to make me feel better?"

"Yes. This and exercise."

"God, you sound like a women's magazine."

"I tell you what; do this for six weeks. I bet that you can't stay on a diet and exercise program that I prescribe."

"What do I get?"

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stop nagging me. If I stay on this regimen, you promise to slink away into your hole and I never hear from you again."

I think I gasped slightly. It hurt to think that he wanted me out of his life that badly. But, if I could improve his life and that was what it took, then I could stay in my hole. "Okay, if you do this, then I'll go away. I won't bother you again."

"What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"What do you get if you win?"

"You address my med school class about your angioplasty and your inability to stick to a diet and exercise."

"Okay, deal."

I gave him a smile even though it still stung that he wanted me gone. "Just think, in six short weeks you might just never have to deal with me again."

"The idea that your voice won't be nagging me anymore is music to my ears."

"Talking about music, where did you learn to play so well?"

"My mother made me take piano lessons when I was five. My father made my life hell if I didn't practice. When I was fourteen I switched to guitar, but by the time I was twenty I was back on the piano and, to keep from going nuts in med school, I took up several other instruments."

"I hear that you're very good."

"I am. What about you? Do you play anything?"

"Played flute for five years, but gave it up. That's my claim to fame. Would you play for me?"

After dinner, he walked over to the piano that Susan had moved from his apartment and started to play while I cleaned off the table. He switched from genre to genre…classical to pop to show tunes to jazz…he was very versatile and every time I looked over at him I could see that he was in his own world, caught up in the nuance of every note.

I walked over and he looked up as he played and then scooted over just enough for me to sit next to him. It seemed to be a little too intimate, but I sat down, giving us some space between us until he finally came up for air, took a drink of wine and looked over at me.

"Any requests?"

"Yeah, don't stop."

"Is that by Hammerstein?" he joked.

"No, I'm serious, it sounds lovely. You play very well."

We sat at the piano for another hour while I threw out songs and he played. Occasionally, I'd sing along with his playing.

"You don't sing as well as I play, but you have a pleasant voice."

"Gee, thanks. Well, I'm going to go home. You get some sleep, because we start exercising around seven tomorrow."

"Oh no, not seven…I'm barely scratching my genitals at seven."

"Good night Greg, see you at seven."

"Night, Sensei."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**Running On Empty**

As I took the stairs down to my loft, I replayed the evening in my mind. We didn't miss a beat; the conversation was great, the music and food wonderful. If it had been a date I know I would have received a second call. As high as I was while coming down to my loft, the deeper I crashed when I climbed in bed. This would go nowhere, could go nowhere. I had just spent the best night I'd had in Princeton with my best friend's boyfriend. This sucked.

I got up the next morning, hydrated and then put on my workout clothes before climbing the stairs and knocking on the door. True to his word, Greg answered scratching his genitals in his boxers and complaining of how early it was.

"Christ, I only get up this early on a Saturday for a patient or to have sex. Are you here to have sex?"

"Get dressed, we're going rowing."

"It's chilly out there…it has to be forty degrees out there."

"You'll warm up quickly. First we'll row for some cardio and then I want to work on your leg."

"I'm going back to bed. I'll see you in a few hours."

I jumped between him and the door to the bedroom. "No! You promised me!"

He scrunched his face and looked at me with one eye. "Why don't we just have marathon sex for our aerobics?"

"Get dressed, we're going rowing."

"You're no fun."

House took his time changing and then grabbed a water bottle before descending down into the garage. We drove to the lake and rented a skull. Out on the water, I realized quickly that Greg's stroke was much longer and stronger than mine, meaning I had to paddle twice as hard to keep up with him.

"Greg, slow down a little so that I can speed up and we can get in sync."

"You're about as coordinated as Wilson on a bender. Come on, move those stumps you call arms."

"I'm trying!"

We finally coordinated our stroke and found ourselves gliding effortlessly down the lake. By the time we were at the other end of the lake, we were both huffing and puffing. Stopping, we grabbed our water bottles and knocked back a good long drink.

"You're good at this." I mentioned as my chest heaved up and down.

"I used to row in University."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I was good, helped win a few medals. One was here on Lake Carnegie."

"I'm shocked! I just never thought of you playing a team sport!"

"Just two to a boat, but we were good. Louis Madera and I were a real team."

"Now that you mention it, I can see you as being very competitive in your own House-like way."

"What about you? Any sports?"

"I always did sports to get healthy, never did any team sports in school. I hated jocks."

"So you wouldn't have worn my Letter Jacket if I had given it to you in high school?"

"No, because I would have been six and it would have been a little creepy."

He actually let out a little laugh and then drank some more water. We sat, getting our second wind and watching the first of the ducks to migrate back for the early spring.

"I bet you miss Susan."

"It's only been a few days. She's having a blast, called me last night just to tell me that she and Wilson had spent the entire night at some big party. She's leading my homie astray."

I smiled. "She has that effect. Ready for the ride back?"

He sneered, but nodded at the same time. We got back just before our hour was up and then drove him over to PPTH where we went to the therapy room. Together we worked on a nautilus routine that was guaranteed to improve the strength in his leg.

"You really think I'm going to do this every day?"

"No, but four times a week?"

He winced. "I don't have a good track record for exercises."

"What if we do them together in the beginning?"

He laughed. "You want to be Pump Buddies?"

"Pump buddies?"

"I want to pump you up!"

"Oh. Sure, I'll be your pump buddy, but you have to promise to be prompt to pump." I giggled.

"Noon, Mon, Wed, Thurs."

"We can use the row machine during the week and row on the lake Saturdays."

"Only if you promise to make it eight."

"How about seven-thirty?"

"Okay, we'll try it."

We went back to the loft and he went to the penthouse while I went to my apartment, it was eleven in the morning and I had the rest of the day to myself. It was a real downer that the best part of my Saturday was over by eleven. I did laundry, cleaned a little and then played Mafia Wars on Facebook. When I was done leveling up on Cuba I signed off and looked out the large French doors leading onto my rather skimpy balcony. The sky was cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain like hell. I sat back down and stared out into space, wondering what he was doing.

Around four I called the penthouse to see if he wanted me to make him dinner, but no one answered. At five I caught a few episodes of the _Law and Order _marathon. Around seven I got dressed and decided to go to the mall and grab a meal before going to a movie. I took my Land's End windbreaker and an umbrella because it was coming down hard outside. I was a little sore from our workout so I decided to take the elevator. Hitting the button, the car came from the third floor rather than the ground. Opening up, I was a little surprised to see Greg and Chase inside.

"Gentlemen?"

Chase leaned forward and gave me a little peck on the cheek as I entered the elevator car. "How are you, Finley?"

"Good, fine. What are you two up to?"

House looked up at the numbers as the floors flew by to the garage.

Chase responded when he realized that Greg wasn't going to, "We're going out to have a light dinner and then to hear some music. What are you up to?"

"I'm going to grab something to eat."

Chase spoke right up. "Why don't you join us? We're going to go to Triumph to hear that new jazz-rap band after we get something to eat at Mezzlaluna."

I looked at House and he didn't look too excited about me joining them. It made sense, Triumph was a meat market on Saturday and Chase was young, good looking and likely to make the evening interesting for House. Between the two of them, I doubted they'd be lonely.

"Greg? Are you sure? You don't look too happy about this."

"It's Saturday night; I was hoping to have a drink with my homie, but he seems to think you might need some company."

"Oh." I was crushed. He clearly thought of me as extra weight. Rustling up a yawn and a smile, I told Chase, "You know, I'm really tired tonight, but thank you. I appreciate the thought. I think I'll just stick with the plan." The door opened and I started walking towards my car and realized we were all walking in the same direction. I noticed that Chase's car was about two spaces down from mine.

Chase gave House a dirty look to let him know that he knew I was backing out because of his comment. "We'd really like you to join us."

"Thanks. You guys go and have some fun." I knew that if I kept talking, my voice my break. I kept my head down and fumbled with my keys. So much for me thinking he enjoyed my company.

I sat in my car as they drove by. Chase waved at me and I gave a wave and a smile back. After I saw the last of his taillights, I got back out and went upstairs to the loft; I wasn't feeling very hungry. I didn't see Greg until Monday at noon when we met at the smaller of the five fitness/therapy rooms at the hospital. We were the only two in the room.

Together we worked out both on the Nautilus and with free weights after doing twenty minutes of cardio on the rowing machine. There was so much teasing between us that my side hurt from laughing so hard. He made faces, commented on my large (not really) ass and made up stories about me and my secret life outside the hospital. Afterwards we went to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch, which turned out to be not so quick. Sitting in the booth we talked medicine, religion, whiskey and whatever came to mind. I received a page reminding me that I was late for my next appointment.

That night I made him come down to my loft where we made a grilled chicken salad with balsamic vinegar dressing and a glass of red wine. He wanted a beer, but I put my foot down, reminding him his heart was a mess and he needed to start taking his health seriously. He begrudgingly accepted the red wine I offered, but commented that my wine reserve was nothing like the one he was used to upstairs.

Over the next week, we cooked together, dicing, chopping, mincing, stirring, sautéing. He was the better cook, but lazy. I did most of the cooking, but he'd taste it and add a pinch of this, a tablespoon of that, a dash of whatever and the meal was enhanced immensely.

"You make me look bad with your ability to transform the bland into the sublime."

"Well, every magician needs their blonde assistant."

Whenever we were alone, we seemed to get along great, but whenever someone saw us together or tried to join us in the fitness rooms, House would become cold, distant, insulting. I realized that I must embarrass him for some reason.

After spending four out of six days working out and eating together, I woke him the next morning at seven-thirty and we went for our row on Lake Carnegie, more in tuned with each other's strokes and power than the week before. When we got to the south end of the lake, we sat back and relaxed.

He stared at me for a minute and then asked, "What's missing?"

"Huh?"

"What's missing from your life?"

I blushed. "What makes you think something's missing?"

"Susan mentioned that you might leave at the end of your contract."

"Oh! I just miss my friends, California, the things I'm used to doing."

"This guy who dumped you in L.A., how did he manage to hurt you so badly?"

I drank some water and looked around, not sure I wanted to share with him something so painful, so intimate. "It wasn't that he had the affair or even that he left me for the bimbo; it was that he told me that he never wanted to have children—ever. Our relationship was over, he left me when she got pregnant, married her…" I stopped, choked up over the humiliation and disappointment.

"He gave her what you always wanted."

I nodded. "Well, we should get back."

"You want kids?"

"Yep, I want at least one, maybe two."

"You're biological clock has struck 11:55 pm , you better find someone soon."

I snorted. "I won't find him here, that's for sure."

"You don't exactly put yourself out there, do you?"

"I'm a surgeon; it's hard. I don't know anyone in Princeton…except for Suz. She and I were supposed to…"

"You thought you'd come here and the two of you would go out, find twins, bring them home, marry them, have babies."

"I didn't expect her to be seriously dating someone within a month of me arriving."

"So you're running?"

"Come on, get your blade and let's get rowing."

"_So you're running?"_

"I'll have a better chance of finding someone in Los Angeles where I know where to look."

"You won't find anyone sitting at home watching television or going to the movies by yourself."

"Thanks…I'll remember that. Now do you mind giving me a hand?"

We rowed back and drove over to PPTH where there was a lot of joking, a few snaps of towels, lots of laughing and total exhaustion after our workout. It wasn't easy. I had become totally enamored with the smell of him and the sight of sweat rolling off his brow and neck. We were just about to go to the locker rooms when he pulled his shirt off exposing his chest and muscles on his arms. Rivulets of sweat were running down from his neck across the chest. He threw his shirt into my face with a laugh. I knocked it off and smiled. The rivulet had made it down his chest and just past his belly button; the sight of the little patch of hair running down from his belly button to below the elastic in his shorts was so suggestive, I felt a tingling in my groin. He caught my eye and looked down at his abdomen.

"Are you lusting after my body?"

"No, I was just watching the sweat roll off. Come on, time to get cleaned up."

He followed me out of the room. "So, what have you got planned for the rest of the day?"

"Laundry, cleaning, Star Trek marathon."

"You see, there's a jazz festival, a new opening at the art museum, even a mixer tonight for doctors at the Jewish League Center. All places for you to cruise and meet a man, but you choose to stay home."

"I don't really like the idea of going alone."

"Fine, pick one and I'll go with you."

"Yeah, it doesn't work that way. If I go with a straight man, no one will approach me."

"Trust me. I'm your wingman."

"I can't see you being anything but the hot shot pilot."

"Get dressed and pick your poison."

"You mean, pick an event?"

He nodded.

"The art museum."

Rolling his eyes, he yawned. "Only gay guys go single to an art museum opening. No, pick the mixer or the jazz festival."

"The mixer."

"Well, wear something that shows those breasts off and cinches in at the waist. Men are drawn to the waist/hip ratio."

"Oh, Lord."

I went to my bedroom and started dressing, putting on a long-sleeved shirt dress that clung to my curves and came down in a deep v, giving all men the eyeful of breast Greg wanted revealed. I put on my strappy shoes, makeup and walked out, twirling in front of him, hoping for some crumb of admiration.

He shrugged. "I guess it will do. Let's go."

He drove to the Jewish Center and parked in the handicap slots and made his way to the door while I stood and pulled and pushed my wardrobe until I was feeling comfortable. We walked inside and registered, putting on our sticky name tags with just our first names. Greg surveyed the scene. There were a dozen tables with chairs and white tablecloths. Against one wall were the snacks and on the other was an open bar. Music played over a sound system and several groups of singles huddled around tables and in groups along the walls. House pulled me by the elbow to one side of the large room where a small group of men were standing around some appetizers.

Greg walked up, grabbed a frappe and stabbed it in his mouth, then shook his head talking loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. "Can you believe this? My sister made me come because she was worried." I was standing on the other side of the table. Greg was turned facing me and the men were all facing outward, their backs to me.

One of the guys took a big swig. "You came with your sister? Boy she must be rough if she needs a guy to take her to a singles mixer."

"Yeah, well she's just shy."

One of them motioned to Greg. "Which one is she?"

"Behind you."

They all turned to look at me like I was the bearded lady. I blushed six shades of red, but then they all straightened up and stopped gawking.

"Hi." The good looking fortyish one said.

"Hi." I managed to eek out.

"I'm Roy MacGregor." He reached across the table and shook my hand.

"Finely Doyle."

Another one shoved his hand out, "Taylor Manningville at your service." Taylor was young, dirty blonde, too good looking and obviously very cocky.

The others followed suit until all four had walked around the table and were talking to me. Greg continued to eat and drink until I was well ensconced in conversation with Roy. House walked over to me and whispered in my ear. "He's the best suited for you." Pulling back he announced, "I'm going home. You find your own way."

"Greg! You can't leave me—"

"I'll make sure you get home." Roy offered.

Again I blushed.

"See I knew chivalry wasn't dead. Now make sure you wear protection." Greg said as he sauntered off.

"Greg!" I was mortified, but not surprised.

He grinned and continued walking as I watched, broken hearted that he was able to pawn me off on some stranger. I turned back to Roy. "You have my number so feel free to call. I'm going to go home."

"I'll give you a ride."

"No, I'll catch up to Greg."

He shrugged. "Your brother said you were shy."

"I'm not usually, I just feel awkward. I'll talk to you later." With that I took off. I didn't know if Roy would call or not after such an abrupt departure, but it didn't matter right then. I just wanted to get out of there in case I started to cry.

Running out the door, I saw he was getting into the car. I stormed past him and out to the street, walking as fast as I could. I didn't want Greg seeing my tears. They were dry by the time he pulled up next to me, rolling the window down and leaning over.

"What's going on? Why aren't you back in there?"

"I just felt …awkward."

"Well, climb in."

"No, it's not that cold. I think I'll walk."

"You may not have realized that we drove seven miles to get here."

"We did?" I really hadn't thought it was that far. I took a deep breath and opened the car door, getting in where the heater was warming up the interior. He rolled my window up and we took off.

"Okay, what's going on? You can't really be that inept at meeting people."

I closed my eyes. "Maybe I'm just not ready."

"You still have feelings for him?"

I looked out the window. "Yeah, something like that. I still have feelings." I didn't tell him who I had the feelings for as we drove through the buzzing date night streets of Princeton.

"Dude, you aren't going to have those babies if you don't jump into the gene pool."

* * *

On Sunday, I decided that Greg was right and I should get out. I looked at the entertainment section in the newspaper and saw that there was a spring craft festival taking place down near the University, so I dressed in jeans, a long sleeved Henley, my leather jacket and took off.

Getting outside was good for me. I felt my spirits start to lift and really found the folk music that was being played in the square quite interesting. The booths lining the square had various crafts displayed for sale, some rather amateurish, others quite beautiful and intricate. I bought a knitted sweater and was about to find something to eat when I ran into him.

"Hello! What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm just doing some shopping. And you?"

"I just dropped my daughter off; her mother, my ex, has a booth down here."

Roy looked hot with his clean shaven chin, big brown eyes, Tommy Bahama jeans and a polo shirt with a sweater over it. His hair was a dark brown and he looked a little like a thinner John Cusak. He looked at my bag and motioned behind him.

"There's a café a block away, why don't we go have some coffee and you can show me what you bought."

"Uh, well, I guess. Sure."

We walked away from the festival area and down a block towards the restaurant talking the whole time. Roy was easy to talk to and I found myself fascinated by his background. He was the administrator of the local DMV and the stories he could tell about people trying to cheat to get their license were both scary and hilarious.

We ordered coffee and I ordered a chicken salad since I hadn't eaten breakfast. I was feeling flirty, jittery like you get when you first meet someone. I didn't notice the shadow over my shoulder.

"Oh, it's your brother." Roy said as he got up to welcome my "brother."

I turned and felt my heart leap into my throat—Greg had that ornery look on his face.

"Well, well, I see you found your bathing suit." He laughed, referring to the gene pool.

Roy looked baffled and I shook my head to let him know it was nothing. Greg sat down next to me in the booth, pushing me over with his hip.

"Greg, Roy and I were having a private chat."

"Oh, I love private chats." He put his arm around me and gave me a sideways squeeze. "Isn't my sister just the sweetest thing?"

Roy smiled and gave a short nod. "She certainly seems nice."

"Greg. Please?"

The waitress brought him a cup of coffee and left just as abruptly. I wasn't getting rid of him anytime soon.

"Roy, do you want kids?" Greg asked out of the blue.

"Excuse me?"

"Just a question, might as well put it on the table. My sis here is dying for some rugrats."

I felt my entire body flush with heat as I started to slide down in the booth.

"Well, sorry, no. I have a daughter and I did have a son, but he was killed by a drunk driver. I had a vasectomy after my daughter was born." He said it to me more than to Greg and his voice sounded apologetic.

I shook my head as if it didn't matter.

"Well, that answers that question." Greg said looking up and motioning to the waitress for his check. "My work is done here."

"I'm sorry about your son." I said, knowing this sounded pretty pathetic.

"Thank you." Roy said.

The waitress brought Greg's check; he handed her five bucks and then got up, leaving without saying another word.

"Your brother is a rather odd duck, isn't he?"

"He's not my brother. He's my best friend's boyfriend and he thinks he's my new matchmaker. I'm really sorry that you were exposed to him. He's very rude and crude."

"Ah, that explains a lot. But, maybe he has hit on something. I really don't want children and if that's something you're really interested in, I'm not the guy." He was kind, apologetic, but adamant.

"I appreciate your forthrightness. Yes, I'd like to have children."

"I think you'll probably make a good mother, you have a good sense of humor and believe me, you need one to be a parent."

"If I ever have any." I looked at my salad and realized that I wasn't hungry anymore. I pulled out my wallet and he waved his hand.

"No, please, let me get this."

"Oh, that seems unfair."

"No, it's fine. I had a nice time until your 'brother'—" He used his fingers to make quotes. "Showed up."

"Yeah, he's a real buzz kill." I picked up my things and started to get ready to go.

"Hey, if you ever feel like just catching a movie or having lunch, without children, give me a call." He smiled and handing me his business card.

I laughed. "Thanks. I really do appreciate your candor."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Stop, Look and Listen**

Leaving the restaurant I realized that I was down again. I walked back to the loft, taking the elevator to my apartment and opened the door with a real heaviness in my heart. I heard the television and realized that someone was in my apartment. I crept in and saw the back of his head.

"I can hear your serotonin levels falling. Come on over and join me, I have comfort food."

I walked over. "You used Susan's key?"

He nodded.

On the coffee table was a box of chocolates and a diet coke. I sat down and picked out a chocolate Bordeaux and then took a swig of the diet coke.

"You could have let me have one date before letting the ax fall."

"Nah, you don't have time to waste on guys who don't meet your fundamental criteria. Now you know that you need to move on."

"You know, you seemed really gleeful when you heard that he didn't want kids."

He threw his hands over his heart. "Oh, I'm wounded. You really think I'd take enjoyment out of your misery?"

"Misery loves company and you're miserable."

"At least you can check one off."

"Yeah, but now I'm just as lonely as I was yesterday."

He was silent and then he smiled over at me. "Hey, you're my pump buddy. I'm here for you, except I have to get going, Chase and I are going to go bowling." He got up to leave and then turned; his craggy face debating. "Did you want to come?"

I shook my head. "No, you deserve some 'guys only' time."

He ruffled my hair and then left.

The next day, we not only worked out, playfully zinging each other with the snaps of our towels, but ended up grabbing a vegetarian meal at the local hippie restaurant. On our way home, I reminded him that I still had his gym bag and dirty clothes at my apartment so he offered to pick them up. I invited him to stay for a glass of red wine. As I poured the wine into the spun glass goblets, he took a seat on the couch.

"Susan gets back on Sunday, right?" I asked.

"Wilson gets in tonight and Susan on Sunday."

"Is Wilson's girlfriend picking him up?"

"The hag has insisted on giving him a ride, in more ways than one."

"Well, I was thinking, we could go sailing on Saturday for our aerobics. We could drive down to the shore and rent a sailboat. Sailing on the Atlantic can get your heart rate up."

"I haven't been sailing for years. I used to sail a lot when I was younger."

"Really? I used to crew the Wednesday Beer Boat races in Los Angeles."

"It sounds like a lot of fun. We better go early to get a good boat. All the sailors start coming out of the woodwork in the spring."

"How's your leg these days?" I knew he had been having some pain after our initial workouts, but whenever he was around me he either was okay or hid it well.

"I have some pain and it's getting worse." He said, subconsciously rubbing it as we talked.

"Let me check your leg out."

He laughed. "Is this your way of getting into my pants?"

"Oh, come on. I'm more attracted to my vibrator than you."

"I'd like to see this vibrator." He stood and undid the buckle on his leather belt, dropping his jeans to the floor and pulling his boxer leg up a little to reveal the entire scar. I'd seen it when he wore shorts during our workouts, so I wasn't shocked, but when I put my hand over the muscle, I could feel spasms underneath. "Oh, Greg, this can't feel good. Your muscle spasms are intense. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"What do you think?"

"Stay here."

I ran to the back and brought out some towels and heated some water in my electric kettle. Once the water was ready, I soaked the towels in a tub of steaming water and then applied one to his thigh. He cried out from the heat, but then calmed down and let out a huge sigh. I was on my knees applying the compress and I tried to give him an encouraging smile.

"I usually soak in Wilson's big tub."

"Susan has a Jacuzzi, why don't you use it?"

"Because my leg doesn't extend down far enough."

I pulled the towel off and started rubbing his thigh with some olive oil. He leaned back and closed his eyes as I continued to massage the thigh. The sensual nature of what I was doing wasn't lost on me. Just touching his skin and being close to his package made me both nervous and aroused. I traded the cold towel for the hot one and sat back on my heels to wait. He opened his eyes and looked down at me. For just a second I thought I saw a flash of longing, but then it was gone. This had happened before, but his quick recoveries and subsequent behavior always made me doubt myself, but this time was different, I could tell that he wanted to say something to me and didn't.

I began another round of massage, chasing one of the spasms up his thigh until I came into contact with a fleshy creature. I snapped my hand back as his eyes flew open. He burst out laughing at me.

"You should see your face. It's like you just came into contact with a one eyed snake. Don't worry, it doesn't bite."

"I'm sorry; I just felt this spasm climbing up your thigh—"

"Did you hear me complain? Once your color turns from scarlet to rose you can start again."

"I think I'm done. Does it feel better?"

"I think it would feel a lot better if you'd chase that spasm again."

"Seriously…"

He dropped the raunchy grin and nodded. "It does feel better; you know what you're doing."

"I did massage therapy to pay my tuition in college."

We sat there staring at each other without saying anything. It was both awkward and sad. I think we both looked as if we wanted to say something, but couldn't. I glanced away and then took the towel to the sink. There was a good chance that he just wanted to tell me that he liked me like a sister, but that there were no feelings beyond that.

"I'm going to go home now." He pushed up on the arm of the couch, pulled his pants up and after buttoning up, grabbed his cane. "Thanks."

"Greg?"

He was almost out the door before turning around. "Yeah?"

"Wednesday, I'll probably still be in surgery. Would you like to work out after work?"

"Fine."

"Dinner?"

"Sure."

"Goodnight, Greg. Sleep tight."

"Goodnight, Fin. You too."

When the door closed I actually felt a certain relief. Whenever he was around it took all my emotional energy to keep from showing him the effect he was having on me. I cleaned up, putting the towels in the washer and the goblets in the sink to be washed the next day. I collapsed in bed despite the fact it was only eight o'clock. I wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep, so that's what I did.

Wednesday and Friday we spent working out and having dinner. There were no more massages. Instead, we spent our evenings watching television and having a few glasses of wine. It was comfortable and the conversation was easy. It felt strangely familiar, as if we'd been doing it for much longer than two weeks. I knew that on Sunday it was coming to an end, so I allowed myself the fantasy that we were a couple and this was just a regular weekday evening for us. When he left, I pretended in my head that he had a patient and had to rush back to the hospital. It was a stupid little lie, but I was only hurting myself.

On Friday after he left, I pulled out the little cooler, cleaned it, made some tuna salad and grabbed some snacks from the pantry. I looked through my wine and decided that I'd ask Greg to bring a bottle since mine were all white. After packing a bag with things we might need on our trip I went to bed with a smile on my face. We were both excited about the trip tomorrow and had talked all night about our past sailing mishaps and feats. It was going to be a lot of fun.

When the alarm went off at six, I didn't really mind. We were going to get on the road by seven so that we could be out on the water by ten. I put on my cropped pants, my long sleeved knit shirt and my thickly lined windbreaker. The weather channel had said it was going to only get up to 56, which meant it would be even colder on the water. By the time I put on my plimsoles and grabbed the cooler, I was ready. I had told Greg that I would meet him at the car, but when I arrived, he wasn't there. I waited until ten past seven and then took the elevator up to the penthouse, knowing that he had overslept, _again._

I knocked on the door and waited. No one answered. I knocked harder and then heard footsteps coming towards the door. The locks were undone and the door opened. I was about ready to rag on him for being late when I stopped in midstream. My heart took a nosedive.

"I'm afraid Greg's going to be getting his aerobics at home today if you get my drift."

"Susan? When did you get home?"

"Last night around one. The snow in Austria was too sloppy to ski and my friends were fighting. I just decided to grab the redeye." She was standing, naked except for Greg's jazz t-shirt which she was holding up to her body covering the vital bits. "Thanks for taking care of Greg. He says you should join the Marines." She grinned and motioned behind her. "I'm going to go back for the next round. I'll give you a call later on, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Welcome home."

She closed the door and I stood there like a wallflower waiting for something good to come my way…it wasn't going to happen. I went down to the car and unpacked it and then sat in my apartment most of the day. I ordered pizza and drank myself silly, passing out in front of the Star Trek marathon on the SciFi Channel.

I didn't hear from Susan until Sunday night when she stopped by to borrow some milk for her tea. She was dressed in sweats and the same t-shirt she had been clutching to her body earlier. We talked about the trip for a few minutes and then she started for the door.

"I have to get back. We've been at it all day. This exercising and eating well has done wonders for his libido. Whew…I'm going to be bowlegged by tomorrow."

I held up a hand and shook my head. "Oh—too much information."

"Since when?" She said with a smirk on her face.

She was right, we'd often exchanged stories about our debauchery, but I just couldn't hear about her and Greg without feeling sad. "Sorry, it's just been so long since I got some, I'm jealous."

She laughed, came back and gave me a kiss on my cheek, then left with her container of milk. I went back to bed.

Over the next week I went to the fitness room and worked out, alone. Greg didn't come up and I didn't call to find out where he was. Susan came down and asked me for some of Greg's favorite . recipes from the last two weeks of our cooking.

"I brought home hamburgers last night and he had a fit. Said I was trying to kill him and that you had a couple of recipes that he liked."

"Don't let him sandbag you. He's a better cook than I am; he just wants you to think he can't do it."

"Really?" She shook her head and laughed. "He seems to have been impressed with your efforts to make him behave."

"Is he exercising?"

"Yeah, I converted the small bedroom into a fitness room and had some equipment delivered. He spends an hour in there every day."

I smiled. "I'm glad. He needs to keep it up."

"You've saved his life more than once. Thanks. Hey, I need a new dress for the big Spring Fling at the hospital. What about you? Do you want to go together and buy new dresses?"

"Oh, I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"I don't have a date."

"Half the doctors don't have a date. Come on, we'll all have fun."

* * *

Susan spent $800 on a dress, I spent $120…I bet you can't tell who looked like a million bucks and who looked 'acceptable.' I just didn't think one party was worth spending anymore until I arrived at the event. Greg and Susan had doubled with James and his girlfriend, which meant that there was no room at the inn for me. I was furious when I found out that I wouldn't even be sat at the same table as Susan because it was full by the time I RSVP'd. I ended up at the losers table with three other single doctors, all women and one administrator, again, a woman. The other five seats at the table were empty. I was humiliated sitting there eating my chicken dinner trying to make conversation with four other women just as embarrassed as me to be single and at the party.

After three glasses of red wine, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. While I walked through the hallway, I saw Greg coming out of the men's room. He spotted me and looked around for an easy exit, but there was none.

The wine kicked in. "God! I knew you were avoiding me, but to actually try to run away from me is something else. Can I ask what I did to you?"

He looked around, somewhat embarrassed. "I know you were probably wondering where I was at noon each day and frankly, I don't have an excuse. I just got lazy."

"Oh stop lying, Susan told me you're exercising. So, it wasn't because you suddenly became lazy. I guess it was me. I was a pity case for you. Since you had nothing to do, you decided to be nice to the poor pathetic best friend, but now that Susan's home, you don't want to be seen with me. I understand. You don't have to lurk around corners or avoid using the elevator. I won't say hello or even acknowledge that we know each other."

I looked straight ahead and walked past him; he grabbed my upper arm and pulled me back to him. I was both tipsy and stunned, standing in my cheap cocktail dress looking up into his beautiful blue eyes.

"You don't get it do you?"

"Get what?"

"Why I have to stay away—"

"Greg!" A voice came from behind us.

We turned and watched Susan walking quickly towards us.

"What's going on? Why are you grabbing Finely like that?"

He let go of me. "She almost tripped and fell, too much wine."

"Finley, are you okay?"

I turned and nodded, "Just making my way to the bathroom."

"I was trying to find you. Now that dinner is over, why don't you move to our table, we can squeeze you in."

"I'm going to the bathroom and then catch a cab home."

"Greg, can't you drive Finley home and then come back? I could then drive your car home later."

"No. I'm not talking to Greg anymore. We're no longer pump buddies." I said as somberly as I could manage.

"Pump buddies?" Susan said, wrinkling her forehead and looking at Greg.

"Fitness…you know, 'pump you up.'"

"Oh!" She nodded. "So you're back to hating him?"

"Yep." I said; my head swimming.

"Okay, then I'll drive you home."

"Here," I reached in and retrieved my keys, "You drive my car home for me and I'll take a cab."

"If that's what you want." Susan said. Greg just looked annoyed.

"That's what I want." I continued to the bathroom.

As I walked away I heard a very annoyed Susan hiss, "What did you do to her this time to piss her off?"

"Nothing!"

"Yeah, it's always nothing. I wish you two could get along."

**Dear Readers...Thanks so much for the reviews. They mean a lot to me and encourage me and all the other authors to keep posting. Thanks. Kim**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Handling the Truth About Love**

Lisa Cuddy was having a crappy week and was looking forward to spending the weekend with Rachel at her sister's house. Looking up, she saw Finley Doyle making her way into her office. One thing she was happy about was her decision to bring Finley on board. The cardiac department was not only bringing in money hand over fists, but the reputation of the entire hospital had improved greatly because of Finley's overhaul of the cardio-pulmonary surgical department. Lisa had plans to open a new wing dedicated to cardiology with Finley spearheading it.

"Lisa, how are you?" Finley asked as she approached Cuddy's desk.

"Fine. What's up?"

"I'm giving you notice that I'm not going to renew my contract."

Cuddy's chin dropped in defeat. "Oh, God, no. Please don't tell me that. I've been planning my entire budget for the next five years based on you and your department expanding. We' re very happy with your work." Finley wouldn't look her in the eye. "What's wrong?"

"I just miss my friends and family."

"But …Susan is here."

"Susan is with House. You know House, he monopolizes her life. I'm squeezed in at the last moment."

"I thought you and House were getting along? I heard you were exercising together."

"I was just helping out for a couple of weeks, motivating him to do some exercise for his heart. They purchased some fitness equipment and now he does it at home."

"Please reconsider.. . think about it."

"I have, a lot. I really am sorry; you've all been very good to me. Oh, and could you please not tell anyone yet? You'll need to bring on another surgeon, but I'd like to do it quietly, if possible."

"You don't want Susan to know?"

She snickered. "No, I don't want _House_ to know. He'll make my life miserable, teasing and goading me. I just want to fly under the radar as long as possible. I'll tell Susan when it's necessary."

They spoke for a few minutes and then she left. Lisa picked up the phone and consulted with the board, including James Wilson.

"I don't believe it." Wilson moaned.

"Believe it."

"So she doesn't want Susan or House to know? How long does she have left on her contract?"

"Six weeks."

"Where's she going?"

"I didn't ask."

That evening Finley was hard at work doing an emergency bypass operation on a local news anchor with a handful of people in the gallery watching. Several whispered back and forth that she was very talented, brilliant at what she did. House, sitting behind everyone, chewed his bubblegum and watched, secretly agreeing with the whispering crowd. She made it a habit to never looked up at the gallery. He knew this because he frequently stopped by when he knew she was operating. Watching her in action, her small fingers making big changes in lives, was one of his favorite forms of entertainment. But, she never looked up; never saw that she had a fan, someone who frequently checked the boards to find out when she was operating and then planned his day around her schedule.

When Finley left the operating arena, she went to the doctor's lounge and took a shower to clean the blood and fluids off her body, including her own sweat. It had been touch and go, but she had saved the man's life. As she washed her body, she thought about everything she needed to do and top of the list was to find a new job, in California.

After dressing, she was surprised to find James Wilson waiting for her in the lounge, standing up when she walked into the room. It quickly hit her, he was on the Board of Directors; he was here to talk to her about the move.

"James, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about your announcement this morning."

"What do you need to know?"

"How we can get you to stay?"

She smiled and shook her head. "This isn't about money or about my career. I'm just not happy here in Princeton."

"I thought Susan was your best friend and you moved here to be near her?"

"She is, but she's always occupied. Besides, I just need to get back to the west coast. I'm more comfortable there."

"We had so many plans for your department. We were going to bring you in next week to show you what we were going to do. The whole plan revolved around you and your talent."

"James, I'm really sorry. It's too hard being here."

He grimaced and nodded as if he understood, but she knew he didn't. They stood for a few seconds and then Wilson broke their silence. "If you ever want to come back, I'm sure we'll find a place for you."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. Please don't tell Susan or House."

"House will find out sooner or later, he just does."

"Maybe, but I'll take that risk."

* * *

Surprisingly, the weeks went by swiftly. UCLA was more than happy to get Finley back on their surgical team and Finley agreed to a six month contract with the hopes that at the end of it she might move to San Diego or San Francisco, away from both her ex and House.

The Board had been more invested in keeping her departure quiet than Finley was, so the paperwork was handled personally by the head of H.R. and Lisa Cuddy. No one else besides the members of the Board knew that they were losing their star.

Finley contacted a realtor and was advised to rent until the market improved for sellers. So the realtor arranged for their property management branch to handle the rental. The only caveat was that it would not be advertised until after she left.

It was the end of May and Susan had carved out an evening for the two friends to go out. Apparently, Wilson and House were off to New York for a film festival and planned to return Sunday night, leaving Susan with the night free.

Susan could tell something wasn't right. Finley was trying too hard. She was hanging on Susan's every word, laughing a little too hard and playing with her food at dinner. "Christ, will you just tell me?" Susan finally blurted out.

"I want to, but I know you're going to be hurt."

Susan felt a chill go down her spine. Putting her fork down she took a swig of wine and then stared somberly at Finley. "Your contract is up for renewal and you're not going to renew."

Finley wasn't surprised that she figured it out. Susan was pretty savy. Finley nodded.

Susan slammed her hands down on the table causing everyone to turn and look at them. "When? When are you leaving?"

"The movers are coming on Monday. I fly out on Tuesday. My last day at the hospital was yesterday"

The reaction was immediate; with her lip sticking out so far you could land a plane on it; Susan stood up and walked out leaving Finley to pay the bill and try to find a ride home. After arranging for a cab, she slipped the cabbie his fare and tip, then looked up. The penthouse lights were on in her bedroom. Finley debated whether she should go up and try to make amends, but wasn't sure she should do it right then. Susan often needed to sleep on things before she could be rational so Finley went upstairs and spent the rest of the night packing the last of her things.

In the morning, Finley went out and bought Susan a chocolate éclair and coffee. Knocking on her door, there was no answer. Finley took out her cell phone and dialed. Susan picked up.

"What do you want?"

"I come bearing coffee and éclair, please let me in to explain."

"No. You're no longer my best friend. Go away!" Her voice was whiny like a little girl's.

"Susan, please let me in. I can't eat two éclairs and you know I'm not a fan of coffee."

It took a few minutes but the door unlocked and opened. A hand reached out, grabbed the coffee and then the éclair and then shut again. Finley shook her head and knocked again.

"Susan, please let me in to explain."

"No. I don't care anymore."

"You do care and so do I. So let me inside so I can tell you why I have to leave."

There was no sound, no movement, so Finley went downstairs to her loft and ate her éclair. After taking a long walk in the sun, Finley went to the movies and then returned to find Susan on her sofa crying.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. But, if you had known I was leaving you would have been on my back the whole time, trying to change my mind."

"But I thought we were friends?"

"We are the best of friends." Finley wanted to tell her that it was because they were friends she needed to leave. Falling for your best friend's boyfriend was hard to deal with when she saw them every day. She needed to get away. "I just need to get away."

"Get away? From what?"

Finley put on her best poker face and lied. "I fell for a married man and I need to leave. I won't be able to get over him if I stay here."

"A married man? You kept this from me?"

"I was ashamed. Not very ethical to be in love with someone who's married. But, he's not to blame, sure there was some flirting, but we never had sex."

"You never had sex with him and you're still running back to California?"

"I'm in love with him and I don't want to be a home wrecker. Well, that's not really accurate, he doesn't feel the same way as I do. I couldn't wreck a home since he has no idea how deeply I care about him. To him it was a little flirting, nothing more. It was me who fell off the cliff."

"Who is it?"

"I'm so ashamed. It's no one that you know. He rows down at the lake. That's how we met. We rowed together and then had breakfast which is why you didn't meet him. "

"Oh, Fin. I'm sorry. I haven't been a good friend. I don't know why we don't spend more time together. It seems whenever I have free time, you're in surgery and then on the weekends, Greg and I do things and you don't want to be near him. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've been having problems too. I had a brief fling in Europe with Stewart Willingham; he's a friend of my family. We ran into each other at the conference and then he went with me to ski…I feel so guilty."

Finley froze, not really knowing what to say. "Do you love him?"

"He's married too. I think I could fall in love with him. He said he was in love with me. It scared me so much I flew home a few days early."

"But what about Greg?"

"I care about him too. Oh, don't look at me that way. One of the reasons I didn't want to see you was because I knew you'd disapprove." She picked at a thread on her clam diggers.

"I don't disapprove. I just worry about you and Greg. You both seem happy together."

There was a brief look, as if she disagreed, but then Susan nodded. "I do love Greg, but I still don't know if this is forever after. I just know that I did miss him and I wouldn't have felt so guilty if I didn't care for him, would I?"

"Only you can answer that."

There was a deep pause and sigh from Susan. "Why didn't we talk about this sooner?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me about your plans."

"I'm renting out the loft because resales are still low. I have my old job back at UCLA for the next six months with an option to sign on for another year if I want to. But, I was thinking about trying San Diego or San Francisco. I might even look into going overseas. I don't have anyone holding me back and now may be the time to do some volunteer work."

"I really want you to stay. Were they upset when you gave notice?"

Finley nodded vigorously. "I gathered they had planned their whole financial future around a new Cardiac department. Susan, please don't tell Greg that I'm leaving. He'll find out when the movers come, but I just don't want to hear any of his crap tonight."

"He won't care. I thought you two had mended fences when I was gone, but he goes out of his way to avoid you. Whenever I suggest us inviting you over or going out together, he makes a big stink about it."

Finley shrugged. "I don't know what I did. I thought we had put our differences behind us too."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him."

They sat and talked for another couple of hours and then Susan received a call. "That was Greg. They just reached Princeton and he wanted to know if I wanted something from MacDonalds."

"He better have ordered the salad." Finley said, cursing House under her breath.

"I better get going. Why don't you stay with us Monday night?"

"With you and Greg? Are you joking? Besides, I arranged for Salvation Army to pick up my mattress on Tuesday morning before I leave. It's old and I don't want to lug it across the country again. I was just going to crash on it."

"It's one night with us; it's not going to hurt anyone. Then I can say goodbye properly."

Finley didn't really want to spend the night with them, but Susan seemed desperate to say goodbye. "Okay."

"Finley, promise me you'll come back and see me?"

"Of course and you'll come see me."

They hugged each other and then Susan left to welcome House home.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**Goodbyes**

The movers arrived Monday morning at seven-thirty and by eleven they were loading the last pieces. Besides the mattress, I kept back my fluffy duvet and a pillow, which I planned to carry in my car just in case I needed to stop and take a nap somewhere along the road. When the last box left the loft, I turned to the foreman and began the task of signing his papers. I heard gruff voices down the hall and some shuffling. The foreman and I turned to see Greg push one of the movers to the side as he burst through the door, his face a mixture of anger and anxiety. I handed the clipboard to the mover and we exchanged telephone numbers before he left. I turned my attention to Greg who was now standing a foot away, staring down at me in the hallway.

"Greg? What's wrong?"

"_You're moving? You didn't tell me?" _He was yelling like a madman.

"I didn't think I had to…we don't talk, we don't even pass each other in hallways anymore."

It happened so swiftly I didn't realize what he was doing. His body crashed against me, pinning me to the wall, his mouth covering mine with those wide, soft lips of his, his beard rough again my chin. My head bounced off the wall and I had trouble getting my bearings until I felt his warm tongue slowly slip into my mouth, gently touching my tongue as his lips, slightly parted, caressed mine in a kiss. It was everything I had dreamed of—passion, warmth, urgency. I didn't have time to think (which was a good thing); I could only react.

His hands crawled, palms flat, up the bare skin of my arms pinning my wrists above me. He loosened his grip as he brought one hand down slowly along the inside of my arm until he reached my breasts. I brought my arms down around his neck to continue our kissing, running one hand slowly back and forth against the nape of his neck.

There were no words, only touching. I reached up and started to unbutton his shirt. After getting it half way undone he didn't wait; he pulled it and the t-shirt over his head in one fell swoop, throwing it on the marble floor. It was the first time we had a chance to actually look at each other; when we did there was so much unsaid between us that it almost hurt. We were both breathing heavily, the gray curly hair on his chest heaving up and down as his eyes, focused on mine, darted back and forth, searching mine for encouragement. This was the moment when I should have stopped it. I should have pushed him away, but I didn't. My t-shirt came off, exposing my gray, wireless bra and heaving breasts.

"The door—you didn't close it." I managed to eek out.

He looked over his shoulder and stepped back, grabbing his cane he slammed the door without actually going over to it. Turning back to me, he leaned the cane against the wall and began to touch my skin as he kissed my neck, his breath tickling me. His long, graceful hand covered my breast, fondling me through the jersey material of my bra. I heard a soft moan from his lips which had the effect of melting me into a puddle of erotic desire.

"God, you feel good." He whispered into my neck.

"You do too." I reached down and rubbed the bulge in his jeans.

"Whoa…not yet." He said, pulling his groin away from my touch. "I'm like a bottle of champagne, too much pressure and I'm going to blow my cork." He continued to kiss me as his eyes searched from side to side. "Christ don't you have any furniture left?"

"A mattress."

"Ah, thank God." He pushed and pulled me, rotating me down the hall as he continued to give me his deep, open mouthed kisses. At the doorway, I kicked the door open and we fell through, stumbling into the bedroom and landing squarely on the mattress. He rolled over, his thigh sliding over my groin. I turned to take him into my arms and for a moment our eyes locked. In the heat of it all, I didn't have a chance to catch my breath, to look at him, take in the depth of what was happening.

"I need you to roll towards me if I'm ever going to unsnatch that bra."

"Unsnatch? Don't you mean unlatch? No. It needs to come up over my head, it's got no 'snatch'."

"God, I hope you do."

I giggled, "Yes, I have a snatch. Would you like to see it?"

"Oh, yes, please!"

"Later." I pulled my bra up and over my breasts and waited to see if I was going to have a positive reaction or not. He looked down at them with curiosity at first, his fingers coming up to touch them with a delicacy usually saved for touching a newborn. He cupped one and brought his mouth down over it, his tongue tickling the tip of my nipple and then circling it. I felt it harden in his mouth as his tongue, warm and wet glided over my nipple in several long, lavish strokes until he gave into temptation and began to suck. It felt so good, so decadent, so erotic; I immediately remembered Susan's complimentary words about Greg's prowess in bed. I had a feeling she was right.

I started to play with his button until I felt it give in my hand. He patiently concentrated on my mouth as I pulled the zipper and slipped my hand into his pants, tentatively touching what I knew was a very stiff erection just waiting to escape the confines of his boxers. I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft and started to run my hand slowly up and down. It seemed strange to be lying on a mattress in this abandoned room, blinds down three quarters of the way, only a sliver of light coming through the window.

"I'm going to take off my pants, why don't you do the same?" He suggested.

I didn't answer, instead I let go of his erection and undid the string pulling down my pants and pushing them off with my feet. He managed to remove his at the same time along with his boxers whereas my panties remained firmly over my pubic bones.

"Something you're hiding?" He asked looking at my gray jersey panties.

I grinned. "No, I just didn't know if we were going the full Monty just yet."

He rolled his eyes and pushed my shoulder down to the bed as he slid his mouth down over my breast and to my hipbone where he gave me several kisses, the roughness of the short upper part of his beard juxtaposing with the softness of his lips. I put my hand on top of his head as he continued down until his nose was lost in the wisps of my pubic hair. His tongue skillfully split my cleft and found the little nub underneath it. If it had been anyone else, I would have been self-conscious, wondering if I tasted okay, smelled all right. But, the skill with which his tongue played and teased my clit was so brilliant; all I could do was wiggle and moan.

"Oh, oh,oh!"

He stopped and looked up at me. "Am I hurting you?"

"Oh, good God no! I'm just having a hard time."

"Hard time coming?"

"No, a hard time not coming."

He burst out laughing. "I'm down here wiggling my tongue in my best Johnny Holmes manner and you're trying _not_ to come. _Why?"_

"Because I'd like to come while you're inside me." I said, my breathing irregular, but my voice soft and anxious.

He put his face back down, started licking like mad in a rhythm that sent sexual tension through my entire body. Every ounce of blood felt like it was rushing to the spot where his tongue was teasing me. I couldn't hold back, my arms flung out like a cross, I tried to grab the mattress to keep from grabbing his head, but there was nothing to hold onto so I started thrashing and moaning, screaming out his name as the waves of the orgasm started to push into my groin and then back up into my breasts.

"Oh _damn! Greg! Greg!"_

When the orgasm started to slow, he pushed up from between my legs and guided himself so that his shiny erection rested just at my entrance. He smiled down at me as his hand pushed aside my labia and he slipped into me, filling me up. His whole body rippled as he began pushing up into me, my legs wrapping around his waist, tilting up to meet his thrusts. He reached around my shoulders, holding me to him as his hips danced up and down, his thick member rubbing inside.

It was marvelous the way he smelled, the way he moved. I don't know if it was because I had wanted this for so long or if he was just that good, but I could feel the waves coming again, the congestion in my groin as his body joined with mine. I grabbed around him, holding on, unable to control the pleasure shooting through my body with each of his deep thrusts, our shallow moans and my contracting muscles.

"Oh fuck, I'm coming; I'm coming!" I shouted; a scream of ecstasy escaping as my muscles clamped onto him.

I barely heard his cry of, "Damn, you're tight. Oh, oh. He lifted up, eyes clenched shut, mouth opened wide, body shining from a light sheen of sweat. I could feel him buck several times; shallow thrusts that delivered his semen deep inside of me.

"No more, no more, no more." I cried, completely spent and unable to take any more, my entire body sensitive to any touch.

He pulled out and rolled onto his side, pulling me into his chest, his hand sliding down my back to my ass, tickling my body as he did. I did the same, touching his body, cupping the cheeks of his ass in my hand as we both tried to catch our breath.

"Okay, am I nuts or was that some of the best sex ever?" He said in a serious tone.

I wasn't lying when I told him, "It was the best I ever had. Coming twice so quickly together was incredible. I don't know how you did it."

He chuckled. "I don't know either! I'd like to tell you I do it all the time, but usually I manage to elicit one good orgasm per booty call out of my partner."

We suddenly stopped talking. The word partner brought up images of Susan in both of our heads.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"I don't know. I asked where you were and Cuddy told me you hadn't renewed your contract. I called Susan and she told me that you were leaving, that you were packing as we spoke. Next thing I know, I'm rushing over on my motorcycle. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't think it mattered to you. You've done just about everything under the sun to avoid me, pawn me off on other men, be cruel to me."

His brow was wrinkled up he stared intently into my eyes, shaking his head. "Don't you get it?" He took a deep breath. "I've been trying like hell to control these feelings, to keep from hurting a lot of people I care about."

"Susan."

"Of course, Susan. But you too. I know how guilty you're going to feel about this and I didn't want you to go through that."

I pulled away and turned my body to free myself from his touch. He was right; my guilt was already starting to overwhelm me.

"Don't do this. Don't pull away; don't beat yourself up."

"Oh Greg, she just told me yesterday that she loves you and here I am screwing her boyfriend."

"No, her boyfriend is screwing you. You didn't ask for this."

"You didn't force me. One word and you would have stopped."

"Don't."

I looked over at him.

He moved closer, cuddling me up into his arms. "Don't leave me. Don't go. Stay here, stay with me."

I closed my eyes, letting myself have the luxury of absorbing those words, knowing in a moment I would say 'no' and whatever this was, whatever little happiness I had been given, would be gone. When I opened them, he waited quietly for my response. I think he already knew it.

"I can't. Everything is already in motion. Contracts have been signed. Tickets purchased, houses rented. More importantly, you're still my best friend's live-in boyfriend. That hasn't changed."

"I don't want to play this charade anymore. I don't want to pretend that you aren't beautiful, that you're gum under my shoe, that you mean so little to me that I don't even want you to have dinner with us."

"Then why have you? And why did you try to set me up?"

He rubbed my face and kissed me softly. "That was a mistake. As soon as I saw you sitting in that café across from him, it made me sick to my stomach. I watched you put your hair behind your ear, arch your shoulders forward, smile and make eye contact. You were attracted to him. And then when I saw you laugh at pretty-boy's jokes, it reminded me of when Susan was gone and you'd laugh at mine. So I went in for the kill."

"How did you know he didn't want children?"

"He had on one of those rope bracelets that teenage girls buy and give to people they love. Obviously his daughter gave it to him which means he has kids and at forty, guys don't want more kids when they already have teens…it's just the rule. Teens kinda blow away any idea that you might like more kids…for guys that is."

His hands didn't stop running up and down my body as if I was Braille and he was reading me. It felt so delicious, so calming. He combed his fingers through my hair and then pulled me in for a kiss. I felt every emotion in the book, but mostly I felt a deep longing . I had longed for the day to be over and now I didn't want it to end.

"Stay with me." He said holding me in his warm arms.

We kissed and talked and then made love again. Every once in awhile he begged me to stay with him. He promised me money to break the contracts, promised he would support me, promised we would work it out.

"I'm not staying. I'm not going to be the one to break my best friend's heart. This will be all we have; this afternoon has answered so many crazy questions. This afternoon will have to get me through the rest of my life." I said, still clinging to his body, my hand placed softly over his heart.

"I want the rest of my life to get me through the rest of my life. I want you."

I didn't mean to, but tears welled up. "You need to honor me by going back to Susan."

"Honor you? You make it sound like you have cancer and you're dying."

"Greg, please. You know what I'm saying . I know you care about Susan or you would have left her; you would have been with me ages ago. I can't be with you as long Susan is in love with you. So go back and be happy, make her happy. I know you can be happy together."

"And how do you know this?"

"Because up until now, you were happy."

"No I wasn't. I was comfortable, I was content, but I wouldn't call me happy."

"I don't understand. You two were always together…"

"You don't get it. I couldn't be near you. Every time I got within ten feet of you, everything in me malfunctioned. I had a hard time concentrating; I started dreaming of you. God the sex dreams were hot--almost as hot as sex with you in the real world." He grabbed the cheek of my ass to emphasize his lust for my body.

"I don't understand why you had to be mean?"

"It was a way to distance myself from what I was feeling. I can't do it any longer. I want you."

"I can't screw up our friendship." I said it firmly, with a finality.

Turning on his back, he was silent, still running his hand up and down my shoulder as I sprawled across his body like a vine, my thigh over his penis, my arm draped over his chest, hand on his shoulder. I felt like my body was melding into his and before the afternoon was done, we would be one. It finally dawned on me that we only had a couple of hours, maybe less before all of this would be gone. He'd go back to Susan and I would start a new life. But at least I'd have this one afternoon in his arms.

I could hear his heart beating, the sound of his lungs filling with air. I said a prayer, asking God to help me survive the coming months…to make it easier on me than I knew it would be. We couldn't keep our hands still, I drew on his chest, his hand continued to stroke my back as we talked about life, love and what drew us together. Our conclusion was that we were alike in many ways-- intelligent, talented, loyal, frank and deep inside just waiting to love and be loved. There were a couple of times where he made me laugh at his jokes, his witty comments about his life, the way he made fun of me. Holding him was like a religious experience. There was something spiritual in our coupling, the feeling that this was where we belonged. We both could feel the afternoon drawing in and so we made love one more time.

It was slow and sensual with both of us looking deep into the other's eyes as we joined together. There was no urgency like the first time, only a desire to savor the feel and warmth of the other's body. When it was over, it took everything I could to keep from crying. I was crashing from my high and it felt as if my life was over.

I was the first to move. I sat up and looked down at his long, graceful body with its sculptured muscles and flat planes. He looked so delicious, the proportions of his arms and legs, waist and penis just perfect. I didn't want him to move so I could capture and commit to memory everything about him.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer."

I smiled. "You know, I'm going to." I ran and retrieved my cell phone, held it up and took a photo of the two of us from the shoulders up. We're lying on the pillow, heads touching, smiling as if we'd just had great sex, which we had.

"Email that to me." He said.

"Sure." I lied. I wasn't going to take any chances that Susan would find it on his computer.

He rolled his eyes. "I can tell that you're lying."

I laughed. "You're right. She's going to be home in a few minutes. You need to go upstairs and take a shower; I need to take one too."

"Let's take one together."

"No. She needs to subconsciously see that the bathroom is steamy, the towels wet, that a shower was taken in your bathroom. It's time, Greg. It's time for you to go."

"Stay with me."

I shook my head. "You know I can't. I love both of you. I can't be the one that breaks her heart, sorry. Now get up and get dressed." I went over to my suitcase and picked out underwear, a pair of cropped cargo pants and a clean khaki t-shirt.

Greg stood up and came over to me. "This is bull and you know it. All you have to do is say the word and we can be together."

"The cost is too high. I'm sorry."

Despite my words, I jumped forward and grabbed hold of him in one last attempt to absorb whatever it was between us. He held me so tight I had to physical push away to breath. After a minute I pushed further to break his hold.

"Go."

"No, I don't want to."

"I'm going to go take my shower and I'm begging you to be gone when I come out. Please? For Susan's sake? For mine?"

He winced and let go of me. His clothes went on rather quickly and then he crossed the room, looked back , his eyes full of despair, and left, the front door closing with a resounding thud.

**Dear Readers:**

**I hope you're enjoying this so far...well, the dam has broken and they both have acknowledged their feelings. Thank you for reviewing...it reminds me to post! LOL**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**Keeping up Pretenses**

I threw my bag and duvet down in the guest room and joined Susan out in the kitchen. "Where's Greg?"

"He's sleeping at his place tonight—claims he has some work to do around the apartment and go through his mail and messages. I think he's avoiding you."

_If you only knew._ "Yeah, I'd say that was a safe bet."

"I wish you two could bury the hatchet and get along." She handed me a glass of wine.

I shrugged. "It's not necessary if I'm leaving, right?"

"Well, you are coming back to visit. What if he sells his apartment?"

I grinned. "Then he can stay with James when I'm here."

"I think James is going to get married!"

"_Again?"_

She gleefully nodded.

"Oh, my God, he's a glutton for punishment; isn't he?"

"Really, Fin, what if Greg and I get married?"

I swallowed the wine I was drinking and it went down the wrong pipe. I started coughing. "Married?"

"Who knows? Anything can happen right?"

I thought about it. She was right. I never thought when I moved here a year ago that I'd fall in love with Gregory House, let alone have an afternoon of carnal lust the day before I was going to leave. "I guess."

The next morning, I got up, took a shower, went down to my apartment and dragged the mattress out to the hall and propped it against the wall so that the Salvation Army could pick it up and then went back to get my things. Susan dragged herself out of the bedroom still sleepy and dressed in her pajamas.

"I'm going."

"Don't you want coffee, breakfast?"

"No, I'll get something on the way out of town. You be good and remember that I'm just a plane ride away. Call me if you need anything."

We started our long drawn out hug.

She started crying, "You too. Call me each night when you stop."

"I will."

"I love you." She said, tears seeping into my shoulder.

"I love you too."

We pulled apart, I grabbed my bag and duvet and left. My heart was so heavy I thought it was going to slip down into my foot. I hit the button for the garage and leaned against the wall of the elevator as it took me to "G."

The door opened and I walked back to the far corner where my assigned parking spot was. I immediately recognized the tall figure leaning against my car staring at his new sneakers. My heart was back up in my throat beating like a snare drum. I walked up and he raised his head.

"Need some help?"

"I've got it." I opened the back door and threw my stuff in, closing it and turning to look at him.

"Stay with me."

I closed my eyes, the pain was so intense. "I can't. She's talking about marrying you some day."

"_What?"_

"I just can't. She loves you."

I stood in front of him holding my keys out in front of me to signal my desire for him to move so I could get into the driver's seat. "Greg, I have to go. I'm sorry. I should never have slept with you. I'm a crappy friend."

"Oh, God, get over yourself. I'm bad, you're bad, we're horrible people, but I don't want you to go."

"I don't _want_ to go; I _have _to go. Please step aside."

He stepped forward and I stepped back.

"_Greg." _ I cautioned him with my voice.

"I just wanted to give you a hug before you go. I am allowed to say goodbye, right?"

"We don't have to hug…"

"What are you afraid of?"

My voice cracked, "I'm afraid that if I hug you I won't be able to let you go."

"I'm betting on it."

He held out his arms and I slipped into them. With my face buried in his chest, he wrapped his long arms protectively around me. The heartbeat, the smell, the warmth, it all brought back yesterday afternoon's memories. He kissed the crown of my head and then put his cheek where he had kissed.

"I'll miss you."

I started sobbing. "I'll miss you too. Now, please move."

He let go of me and stepped aside. I opened the door and just before I climbed in, I turned to face him. He leaned in and gave me a simple, gentle kiss and then put his forehead on mine. "Stay with me."

I shook my head and climbed into the car, starting it and pulling out without looking back. I knew if I did, I'd probably stay. The day started with a light sprinkle on the roads and as I drove west, the rain pounded down on the car like the tears falling on my lap.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**California Dreaming**

"You're here?"

"We got in early. Where are you?"

"I'm just pulling into the airport. Do you have your luggage?"

"I just brought a carryon. I figure we'll probably go shopping so I'll buy a suitcase when we're out."

"Okay. Then just wait out at the curb and I won't have to park."

"Fine."

Within minutes, Susan was riding shot gun and they were on their way out of LAX to the Hollywood Hills talking and giggling all the way down the road.

"Yeah, I bought a condo. I wanted a house, but I'm thinking of moving in a few months, as soon as my contract is up at UCLA."

"Moving? Where?" Susan was shocked; UCLA seemed to be the perfect place to showcase Finley's talents.

"I've been offered the head of cardiology down at a small boutique hospital in San Diego."

"But you're next in line here…and Carson is about to retire. You could be head of cardiology at UCLA in a year? Why leave?"

"Because I'm tired of the rat race and just want a few good years where I'm not constantly trying to prove myself. And besides, I'm pregnant."

There was a squeal out of Susan's mouth. "Oh my God! A baby? How far along are you?"

"About eight weeks." Finley lied. She was almost twelve, but luckily she wasn't showing that much."

"Wow, who's the daddy?"

"You're going to die laughing. It was a one night stand. He was here for a conference and then gone. We were drunk, he got lucky and his name was George."

"George?"

"That's it, all I remember. He showed up for a seminar at UCLA and that was it."

"Can't you get his information from registration at UCLA?

"He was a last minute substitute for someone in his practice back in Illinois somewhere."

She shook her head. "Greg's going to laugh his ass off."

"Please don't tell him. I don't want him knowing I'm a slut."

They both laughed.

"I won't tell him. But speaking of sluts…"

"What?" Finley asked.

"Do you remember Paul St. John?"

"Ah yes, the guy who wouldn't have sex with me."

"Well, he's _not_ gay."

"Yeah, I remember you two had a fling before I moved to Princeton."

"Well, we went to a bioethics conference together in New York a month ago and…"

Finley whipped her head around. "You slept with him?"

She grimaced and nodded at the same time. "I know, I know."

"What about Greg?"

"I came home and told him."

"_You told him?"_

"I felt like I owed it to him. I've been unfaithful to him twice now."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't say much. Just asked me if I loved Paul."

"And?"

"I told him that I have feelings for him, but I'm not sure what they are."

"You have feelings for Paul?"

"I didn't tell Greg the entire truth. I had a few afternoons with Paul before the seminar. I'm completely torn between the two of them. I love them both for very different reasons."

"So when you told him you had feelings for Paul, what did he say?"

"He said that he'd had an affair too."

Finley swallowed hard, trying to keep her concentration on the rush hour traffic. "Did he say who?"

"No, he said it didn't matter; it happened once and it was over."

"Did he have feelings for her?"

"I didn't ask and I don't want to know. To be honest, I think Greg's the kind of guy that, despite all his bluster, would have to have feelings if he was going to cheat." Susan took in a deep breath. "I was so surprised and hurt. I realized how destructive my behavior had been; how hurtful it can be to cheat."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Greg has been sleeping at his apartment again. I stay over and we date, but there's definitely a cooling off between us." She winced. "I don't know, but he hasn't been acting the same for the several months. I think he slept with this woman a few months ago." Susan went quiet and then turned back with a tear in her eye. "I think he really cared about her. I think he misses her."

"Misses her?" Finley said as nonchalantly as she could.

"He told me that she doesn't live nearby, that I have nothing to worry about. But even though it might never happen again, I can tell he's sad. He's grieving."

"What are you going to do?"

"I've started dating Paul too. Greg doesn't seem to be that upset. I wish he were jealous or angry, but whenever I tell him I have a date, he just nods and walks off. I don't really know what to do. I don't know how to repair our relationship. I came out here to think."

"Well, it sounds to me like you have to make a choice and commit to it."

"But you know me, Fin, I have a horrible time committing to any one person. I was just lucky that Keith never caught me having the affair with Gunther."

"Susan, do you love Greg…I mean really love him, forever after type?"

"I'm very confused. Paul is an adult; we have adult conversations, adult plans, adult outings. With Greg, I don't know if I'm going to get an adult or a childish reaction out of him. But then he keeps things stirred up, I always feel like I'm alive around him; he keeps me guessing. And that's good and bad. I don't know how to handle him sometimes. He's a master manipulator when he wants to be. They're both good in bed. Paul wants to get married, have kids, Greg doesn't want to get married, doesn't want kids. You know me; I take care of children all day long. I don't really want any of my own."

Finley chuckled. "Maybe I ought to take another look at Paul!"

Susan nodded. "Enough about me. What are you going to do?"

"Uh…have a baby, move to San Diego, take a job with less pressure and enjoy motherhood."

"I don't think motherhood is something you enjoy. If my mother is any gauge, it's something you endure."

"We all know your mother was one by default; it was a requirement of the family trust."

Nodding, Susan thought about her mother and the fact that she came from a family, the Lawrences, who expected heirs to their fortunes. Had she not needed heirs, Susan was sure her mother would never have had children. "This is the end of an era. I'm losing my best friend to a seven pound alien."

"I'm not lost, I'll be here, it just means setting an extra plate for dinner. "

They pulled up in front of a large California Spanish-style home with tile roof, large arches and windows with divided panes. Tall palm trees graced the front landscaping. There was one main sidewalk that branched into two, both of which entered gated patios on either side of the large home. Susan followed Finley into the south gated patio which was filled with colorful planters, a chiminea, table, chairs and a lounge. Getting out her key, Finley opened the door and punched in the security code.

"I thought you said it was a condo?" Susan asked.

"It's a home that was divided into three condos, mine is the largest."

"Oh, look at those views! How can you give this up?" Susan cried out as she looked out the back sliding glass doors and ten foot windows.

"I can't live in this condo with a toddler. I bought it before I knew I was pregnant."

Susan opened the sliding door and stepped out on the wide deck that overlooked the canyons below the house, Santa Monica and the ocean in the distance. It was both serene and spectacular. Turning, Susan smiled in appreciation.

"Damn, this makes Princeton look like Trenton. It's beautiful and the house is so large. How many square feet do you have?"

"2100 square feet. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms. I use one bedroom as an office. Come on, I'll give you the cook's tour."

They started in the grand room which shared the spectacular view with the dining room and part of the kitchen. The large fireplace with a dark mantle and blue-green Italian tile captured your eye after you stopped focusing on the view.

"The fireplace is beautiful. The place looks like you--serene, yet cheerful and homey. You always did know how to make a house look like a home."

"Thanks."

The visit took the normal course except that Finley restrained from the obligatory welcome bottle of wine. Instead, she drank water as Susan proceeded to get drunk.

"What would you do?"

Finley tilted her head. "About what?"

"I know you hate Greg, but who would you pick? The adult or Walt Disney on crack?"

"I assume Greg is Walt Disney on crack…"

Susan nodded, her head bobbing slightly.

"Oh, Susan, I don't know. Who makes you laugh the most?"

"Greg." She said without hesitation.

Finley shrugged. "That would be my answer. I need to laugh. I can be an adult to the outside world, but somewhere, sometime, hopefully in my own house, I need to laugh."

"Wow, I wouldn't have expected that answer from you."

Finley snickered. "You have to live with him, not me."

"Oh, Finley, you don't know what you're missing. Even when we're fighting I feel alive…like my brain is firing on all circuits. The problem is that you get tired. I let him get away with way too much and after awhile, I just want to be alone. I bet you wouldn't let him get away with crap."

"Who knows? I guess we'll never find out. Susan, I have a favor to ask."

"Yeah?"

"Will you consider raising my child if anything ever happens to me?"

She blinked and then stared at her friend for a few seconds. "What about your siblings?"

"Only one would make a good parent and we don't agree on how to raise kids. She's a Scientologist and I just can't stand the thought of my child being raised as one."

Susan's face revealed her reluctance. "Finley, I'm such a crappy choice. You know I've never wanted kids."

Finley smiled and nodded with a look of disappointment and worry. "I understand."

Susan could tell that she truly didn't know who else would take her child. "Are you sure that you don't know this George's last name? Maybe he's always wanted kids and you're his last hope."

Finley chuckled. "Sorry, the one thing we did talk about was children and our different views on them. He absolutely doesn't want kids—if I could find him."

Susan took a deep breath and couldn't take the disappointment anymore. "Are you sure you trust me to raise your kid?"

"The only one. I know you won't be June Cleaver, but you'll be honest and try hard and I don't see you as becoming a Scientologist in the future."

"You know there's a chance I'll end up with Greg…he's not big on kids."

"I know. But, I think even he would do the right thing."

"Yeah, he'd tell me to let your family raise the kid."

Finley laughed. "Not when you tell him about my family."

"But your brother is fairly sane."

"Sane? He's a war correspondent!"

By the end of a week in California, Susan was slightly sunburned and extremely relaxed. She had packed and was waiting for Finley to come out of the bathroom to take her to the airport. She didn't want to leave because she didn't want to face the dilemma that she knew waited for her in Princeton. Finley had been right, Greg was probably the one she should be with, but Susan couldn't help but long for Paul's calm, assertive and extremely steady personality. She knew it had to do with living with her mother's mercurial personality as a child and never knowing what to expect.

"Come on, Mamacita! I have to check in and get through security…let's go!

Finley opened the door, looking pale and sickly.

"Oh, poor baby. Morning sickness?"

"No, I think I'm catching something."

"Do you want me to catch a cab?"

Finley's brow went up and her lip quivered. "Would you mind?"

"You better call one now. I only have two hours until my flight takes off."

When the cab arrived, they hugged and Susan whispered. "Thanks for letting me come and dump my problems on you. I can't wait for our little baby to be born. If you need help moving to San Diego, please call, I'll fly out. And I've been thinking; I'll be the guardian if something happens to you."

"Really?" Finley's voice dripped with gratitude.

"Really."

"I love you, Suz."

"You too, Fin."

**Dear Readers: Thanks again for the reviews, they really make my day.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**Unto this World**

Horton Center was a small thirty bed hospital devoted to cardiac and pulmonary patients. I was offered the head of cardiac surgery, but I told them that I would not assume the role until my baby was six months old. For the next nine months, I just wanted to get through my pregnancy, do surgeries and go home at night to take care of my baby. I had mixed feelings about being pregnant. I knew it might be my last chance because at my age things were getting dicey. Between declining fertility and increasing chances of birth defects, I decided that I shouldn't mess with fate. I decided against an abortion. I think I would have kept it anyway. The idea of plucking out the child Greg had given me was repugnant. Sure, I had always imagined that I would have a husband or partner when I got pregnant. I even thought women who got pregnant by 'accident' were stupid idiots for not taking the proper precautions or the morning after pill. But, when I got in my car in Princeton to drive to Los Angeles, my whole body was aching from having to say goodbye. I wasn't able to think straight for days. When I did allow myself to think about that last afternoon together, I'd collapse into a flood of tears. In fact, I didn't think about the lack of birth control until my period didn't come and then it hit me like a pound of bricks.

I moved to San Diego in my seventh month of pregnancy which, besides horrible heartburn, was very uneventful. Of course, the surgical team at Horton Center was a little put out that their premier cardiac surgeon had just arrived only to soon be out on maternity leave; but I had informed Thomas Fuller, the Chairman of the Board of Directors, that I was pregnant when he hired me, so I didn't feel any guilt. I soon discovered that Horton wasn't the small, no-name hospital I thought it was. It was low key, but apparently a very popular hospital with Mexican and South American politicians and business men. Many important dignitaries and entrepreneurs from various Hispanic governments showed up on my operating table. I had wondered how the hospital had managed to meet my UCLA salary and soon found out it was because these men paid extravagant fees to come to America to have their surgery. I was making over $450,000 and would make more when I took over as head of cardiac surgery.

I took a light load while I was pregnant, only operating on the very worst cases. I wasn't very big, for some reason I only gained twenty-six pounds despite eating like a pig. My ultrasounds showed no problems, so my obstetrician continued to allow me to work with the caution that I take a light load and stay off my feet when not operating.

I was carrying a boy. When I was told I was a little disappointed. I knew about girls, how they thought, what to expect, but boys were different. I only knew that my older brothers were enigmas to me. Their teasing, rough housing, constant one upmanship made no sense to me, but when it was aimed at me, I have to admit, it toughened me up. Still, when I was told that I was carrying this alien gender in my body I cringed. But over the next few months, I'd grown to appreciate the little creature that used my insides as his own punching bag. I had a distinct feeling that this boy was going to be a lot like his father. Seriously, every time I sat down and got a kick, I thought of Greg. I had a feeling that he would take a perverse pleasure in knowing that I was befuddled as to what I should do with a boy.

Susan flew out twice more during my pregnancy, both times insuring that all photos depicted me from the chest up. Even then, Greg apparently remarked that I looked pudgy to him. We spent several days shopping for baby things, but Susan refused to help me assemble any of the furniture.

She kicked back with a margarita in one hand and a burrito in the other. "Why assemble when we can pay two young hot guys to come in and do it for us?"

An hour later the assemblers arrived. We watched as Hector and Jesus assembled the crib and changing table.

Laughing I whispered, "I have a feeling you weren't expecting these two middle aged guys with pot bellies?"

She sneered at me and continued to sip her margarita. "Yeah, well if this were Princeton they'd be hot students."

Whenever we'd have to wait in line to buy something (which Susan hated since she never had to wait when she was growing up), she'd poke at my belly, trying to feel the little alien kick. But, he refused to kick for her until her last night in California. I was sitting in the corner of my sofa and all hell broke out inside my womb. He started moving, kicking, stretching, playing rock songs…the kid was partying.

"Suz…hurry, come here." I had my hand on my belly where a little lump appeared from time to time. "He's performing."

She walked over, sat down and I put her hand on the lump. She smiled and then _bam_, he kicked her hand off about half an inch. She yanked it back as if my stomach was hot to the touch. "Oh my God! My God! There really is a baby in there and it's alive!"

I started laughing. "What did you think—it was a big tumor?"

"I don't know what I thought, but it wasn't real until now. Will you call me so that I can come out when you have the baby?"

I thought about it. I'd love to have Susan, but I wondered if Greg would figure it out. "What would you tell Greg?"

"Just that I need a break and I'm coming out here to visit."

"You haven't said anything about him or Paul since you've been out here. What's going on?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. I'm still seeing both of them, but Paul's getting tired of it. He keeps telling me that he won't share me for much longer, that I need to make my choice."

"You want one of them to make it for you." I said with certainty.

She laughed, "How well you know me! Yes, I wish one would give me up or that the answer would come to me in a dream."

"It's not going to."

"I think I still love Greg the most, but now I know he's not the one. He runs right over me. I'll always be a doormat for him."

"Then you have your answer."

"Easier said than done. He's also addictive. I love the excitement he brings into my life, the idea that every day may bring some new drama when I'm with him. He's also better in bed, especially now that he knows I'm sleeping with Paul too."

"I didn't need to hear that." I said with a smile.

Grinning she shrugged. "I know it's going to come to an end soon, but it's hard giving one of them up."

"I'm sorry, Susan. It must be so rough having two men fight over you."

She chuckled at the sarcasm in my voice. "I know! I shouldn't complain. But they both have their good and bad points. The funny thing is that I don't think Greg really cares what I decide. I mean, he cares, but if I told him it was over I think he'd shrug and get on with his life. On the other hand, if I told Paul the same thing Paul would be devastated."

"Again, so sorry for your problems."

"Okay, I get it…stop complaining. Any men in your life?"

I looked at my belly. "Are you joking?"

"Hey, I figure if there are chubby chasers, maybe there's preggar chasers?"

"Nah, no such luck."

Susan flew home to Greg and Paul. I spent my time between work and home.

A month later, on a very sunny Saturday morning, I went to the bathroom for a pee and felt something odd. Looking in the toilet I realized that I had passed 'the show,' the mucus plug that holds everything inside the womb. I didn't lose my water, but I felt cramps every ten minutes. I knew I was in the beginning of labor. I had friends in Los Angeles that I could have called to share the news, but I called Susan instead. Greg picked up.

I froze.

"I can read caller I.D. What's up Fin?" He said with some irritation.

"Hi, Greg. How are you?" I asked even though a part of me wanted to yell _'I'm giving birth to your child. Would you even care?'_

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Fine." I said, my heart beating, my uterus contracting with more frequency. "How's your team?"

"Fine. Are you happy?"

My heart seized up. What a question. "I'm happy enough. You?"

"Here she is." I heard the phone being passed and he was gone.

"Fin?" Susan's voice was excited; she obviously knew I was calling about going into labor.

"It's time. I'm in the early stage of labor."

"Okay, I have the information; I'm catching a plane—"

"Don't tell House why…okay?"

She sounded annoyed. "Of course not. Alright. If you aren't at home, I know where to go. See you tonight."

When she hung up I tried not to think of Greg, but how could I not? He just happened to be the father of my child and I was wishing that I could hold his hand as I gave birth. Still, his voice had been flat, uninterested. I couldn't tell if he was doing it because Susan was nearby or if he had just lost interest in me.

I spent the day watching television and practicing my breathing. It seemed as if the progress of my contractions had slowed. I had only gone from ten minutes to eight minutes apart by four in the afternoon. At five I heard a car door slam and so I went to the door to see. Opening the door, I smiled to see Susan walking towards the door with her luggage. She looked somewhat anxious her eyes big and her jaw taut.

"I'm so glad you're here, I'm just about to go to the hospital; now you can drive me."

"You don't know how excited I am and it's not even my baby!" She said barely able to keep herself contained. She hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Putting her luggage in the guest room, she was back down the stairs and ready to go in less than two minutes.

I picked up my overnight back and then looked at her. "You know, if you have a book, you should bring it."

"I have one in my purse, come on, let's get going." She grabbed the bag from me and we headed for my car. "Oh how cute! A car seat! I never even thought about that, but you're going to need it, aren't you?"

I wrinkled my brow to let her know she was being silly. "Yeah, I had it installed last week. Can we just get to the hosp—ahghh." A contraction hit so hard I doubled over and had a hard time standing back up.

"Fin! Are you okay?" Susan came back over to my side of the car.

"Yes, let's just get going, okay?"

She nodded and within five minutes we were loaded and on our way to the hospital. They let me skip the paperwork since I worked at the hospital and knew I had good insurance. My contractions had been coming every three minutes, but after getting settled in my room, they spread back out to five minutes. I was frustrated, but Susan was happy, the urgency of getting me to the hospital had made her flustered and this breather meant she could go down to the cafeteria and get some food.

Susan took her wallet and left her purse. When her cell phone rang, I pulled it out of her purse and answered without looking at the I.D. I shouldn't have.

"Hello?"

"You aren't Susan. In fact, aren't you a Susan wannabe?"

"Very funny. She's not here right now. I'll have her call you."

"What's that sound?"

"A monitor."

"You're at the hospital?" He sounded suspicious.

"Yep, I had an emergency patient that turned out not to be an emergency. Susan went to the cafeteria to get some coffee."

"So she got there alright. Okay, that's all I needed to know…" There was a deep silence and I thought he had hung up, but the phone was showing a connection.

"Greg? Ahhgggg." A huge contraction hit me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I've been having stomach cramps today…food poisoning. Greg, I have to go."

"Do you miss me?"

It was like someone hit me in the face with a frying pan. "Like a boil on my ass."

He chuckled. "I miss you too." And then the phone went dead.

The contraction hit and all the frustration and pain ebbed up and out of my mouth in one huge wail. The contraction stopped, but not the crying. Luckily everyone attributed it to labor and I didn't dissuade them of that notion.

Susan made it back and after five hours of contractions spaced between four and five minutes, I thought she was going to abandon ship out of boredom. But then I got a string of contractions and threw up when I went through transition. Susan came alive at the prospect of lots of pushing, screaming and a baby. She wasn't disappointed.

My son came into the world kicking and screaming, red and beefy, looking long and wiry for a seven pound baby. He let the world know that he wasn't happy about his changed circumstances. He wanted back in the womb and he let us know it. There wasn't much hair on top of his head, but what was there was a light brown or dark blonde. His eyes were dark and we couldn't really tell what color they were would end up being, but he had long eyelashes to match his abnormally long fingers, even though they were tiny in comparison to an adult.

Susan had been at the other end and helped ease him into the world. She was crying, but not anywhere near the volume that Brennon was. After she cut the cord, they cleaned, weighed and measured him before Susan brought him back over and let me hold him. I have to admit, as tired as I was, I still felt a certain pang of nervousness. I had a screaming baby on my hand and wasn't sure if he would respond to my feeble attempts to quiet him.

Lying on my chest, he started to calm with minimum effort from me.

"He can hear your heart; it's familiar. What are you going to name him?" The nurse asked, as she cleaned me up.

"Brennon Aidan Doyle."

"Nice name."

Susan was taking photos and grinning like she had done all the work. I had to pose a few times and then they changed my gown and swaddled Bren in a receiving blanket before handing him back to me.

"In a few minutes, we'll try breast feeding." The nurse said.

_We? The royal we? I'm so exhausted, if she wants to breast feed, go for it! _A few minutes later, they showed me how to stimulate his sucking mechanism and bam he latched on. There wasn't much at first to give him, especially sense it was mostly colostrum, but it must have been enough because he seemed happy and sleepy. I put him back in his plexiglass bassinette and said good bye to Susan while I went to sleep.

Two days later Bren and I went home in the car with the car seat. Both of us were very healthy. I was a little sore from some tearing, but luckily I had no episiotomy. Susan, despite my protests, had hired a full time house keeper for the next month as a baby gift to _me_. She set up a trust fund with $50,000 for Bren as his baby gift.

My breakdown on the fourth night after Bren's arrival shocked both me and Susan, but she came to my rescue. Bren was crying and nothing I could do seemed to calm him. I was so weary that I started having fits of sobbing. "What did I do? This is so stupid; I should have had an abortion, adopted him out. What was I thinking? I'm not a fit mother."

Susan patted my back and took Bren from me. She turned off the light and said softly, "Go to sleep, I'll take care of Bren."

I was going to protest, insist that I was his mother and I knew what was best, but the physical took over and I succumbed to my exhaustion. When I woke up, it was light outside and Susan was knocking on my bedroom door. I looked at the clock and I had received six straight hours of sleep, but my breasts were heavy from not feeding Bren during the night.

The door opened and a smiling Susan brought my wide-awake son into the bedroom. "Did you get some sleep?"

"I feel like a new person." I held out my arms. "Ahh, let me have him. Did you feed him?"

"We gave him a couple of bottles last night so that you could sleep, but he's hungry again."

I undid my nursing gown and let him latch on. It was painful at first, my nipples were sore, but once he actually started nursing the pain went away. I looked down at him, he was trying to stare at me but I could tell I still wasn't in focus. He looked so beautiful that I started crying.

"Oh, no, you're crying again?"

"Don't worry, good tears. I was just thinking how beautiful he is and how much I love him."

"Well after the hell he gave me last night, he's on my list. But, I think if I get a few hours sleep, I might grow to like him again."

"Oh, did he keep you up all night?"

"Half of it. I'm going to call it a night."

"Thank you, Suz. I love you."

"Love you too."

She was only there for another week, but she was wonderful. She made sure that I got plenty of breaks and that Bren had a few outings with her inthe stroller so that I could get some work done or go to the grocery store. The housekeeper turned out to be a Godsend. Susan and the housekeeper kept up with the mounting wash and saw to it that I was fed. I know it sounds lazy, but what good is having money if you don't use it when it will help the most?

I hired her part time, to come in once a week to do the housekeeping and laundry although I tried to keep up with the wash all week long. I then went about finding a nanny for Bren. I went through three days of interviews and eventually settled on a twenty-one year old girl who went to school at night. She worked for me from seven to six Monday through Friday and both Bren and I came to love Tracey. She was brilliant. Even when I had to stay late at work, she'd drive Bren to the hospital so that he could go into the staff daycare which was a perk for working at the hospital.

The hospital staff soon became used to seeing Bren if I was staying late. There were a couple of night nurses that loved watching him because he really was a cutie. He learned to smile rather quickly and that helped smooth a lot of paths when I needed help.

Susan came back out when Bren was four months old and complained that I never came to see her. I grimaced since there was no way I could take Bren back. One look at Bren and House would know. Bren had some features of Greg-- the blue eyes, the long fingers and legs, the same stare when he was trying to figure something out. But he had my petite nose and ears and a mixture of our face shapes. Personality wise, he was his own person. Yes, I could tell right away that he was smart, but he also smiled quite a lot and although we had a rocky start, he soon settled into being a 'good' baby with very little fuss.

Things went well for the first ten months and then I got the call.

**Dear Reader:**

**Sorry, the next few days may be hard for me to post but I'll try. I have a lot going on right now, a friend is in hospice and things are going downhill fast. Thanks for understanding. Kim**


	27. Chapter 27

**I tried to post yesterday, but it wouldn't let me! Thanks for your kind words about my friend. I am giving the eulogy today at her funeral and your support has helped me get through writing it. Kim**

**Chapter 27**

**No Entrada Las Moscas**

Lester Catalonia was a short Italian who I thought bore a resemblance to the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland; he was always late or in a hurry. When he showed up in my office, glasses crooked, hair flying in all directions, I knew something was up. Les was the hospital's head of public relations and so I was curious as to why he was running through my door.

"We're going to hold a meeting in fifteen minutes." He said as he huffed and puffed.

"We're?" I asked.

"The Board. We just got a call from Paraguay. Their president just had a cardiac incident. They're sending you his file and his recent lab work. They've heard about our success with other Hispanic politicians and want us to send a team down to perform the necessary operation."

"What operation?"

"That will be for you to decide."

"You want me to fly to Paraguay to perform surgery on their President?"

"They don't think their doctors are up to it. If we do this, we'll be on top of the heap."

"If it goes wrong?"

"It won't."

I received the file while I was sitting in the meeting. The President was fifty-eight years old and had been through a previous cardiac surgery. He had active endocarditis, unstable angina, moderate LV function, pulmonary hypertension and he needed surgery on his thoracic aorta. The surgical calculators indicated that he had a 73% chance of dying on the table.

I showed the board my calculations. "He only has a one in four chance of living! You can't ask me to do this! We won't be remembered for saving the president; we'll be remembered for killing him!"

"Look, they say that if we fly you down, they'll donate two million dollars to the hospital. We could use the money for that new MRI."

They spent another five minutes haranguing me; convincing me to do it.

"I won't do it unless they know his chances are extremely low. I want them to realize I'm not a miracle worker."

"Fine, we'll tell them."

"I have to make arrangements for my son."

"If you need help, we're here."

* * *

I arranged for Tracey to take care of Bren for the three days I'd be gone. I had a conversation with the President's treating cardiologist and warned him that it didn't look good; I told him all about my calculations. He acknowledged that they all knew this, but I was his last, best hope.

We were in a private jet, having loaded it with all the surgical equipment and instruments that I would need which we would loan to the Paraguay hospital for the time I was there. When we flew into Asuncion, I looked down at an airport lined with banana trees and jungle-like shrubbery despite it being on the outskirts of a large city. After debarking, a man rushed up to us and pointed to a door that led to a private area for us to go through customs. We were in and out after a few minutes and whisked away to the hospital where journalists were waiting to take my photo as I got out of the Town Car.

The hospital seemed modern enough and when I got inside, it was a pleasant surprise to find that the hospital was clean and well equipped, although the equipment we brought was more modern and appropriate for what I needed to do and, well, frankly, I was used to it. I was introduced to the Paraguayan doctors who would assist me in the operation. I introduced my surgical nurse, Maria Lopez, a bilingual nurse that was frequently interpreted for me although my Spanish was adequate when I wanted to go to a Mexican bar in Ensenada.

I examined a very pale and waxy President Villarica and was quite alarmed. His condition had deteriorated and he needed emergency surgery. I had hoped I'd have time to get up to speed, rest a little and then operate, but he was failing fast. I notified the Vice President and some cabinet members that there was little chance of him making it through the surgery. They insisted that I try.

Within the hour, he was cleaned and prepped. As I was scrubbing up, I heard a commotion in the operating room and heard the sound of paddles energizing. I burst through the doors only to find one of the surgeons paddling the President, trying to get a sinus rhythm, but the monitor had flat lined. He tried again but there was no response. I pushed him to the side, grabbed a knife and opened the President, cracked his ribs and grabbed his heart, massaging it, but the color of the heart was gray and I could see the damage was irreparable. I decided to keep trying though, just because it was the President. I didn't want anyone to claim that I gave up prematurely.

After ten minutes I called it.

There was a skirmish outside the doors, some screaming and crying, probably from his family as they were told he had died. I started to sew him up out of respect, but one of the attending surgeons told me that he would take over. I later heard that they left him open for an autopsy. I must admit that I was relieved. It was better that he died before the operation than in the middle of it. I could easily say that I had nothing to do with his death.

Maria and I were eventually taken back to the hotel where I cleaned up and then called the hospital to talk to the Board who had been waiting for my call to let them know how the operations had gone. After telling them that he had died, they told me that Maria had already informed them and that the jet had was being loaded with the hospital's equipment as we spoke.

"We want you and Nurse Lopez to get to the tarmac as soon as possible. The pilots will be ready to leave once you get there."

My stomach turned. There was something wrong and I didn't like his sense of urgency. "What's going on?" I asked with the sternest voice I could muster.

"Nurse Lopez said she overheard some of the security personnel for the President. There were claims that you killed the President; that you took his heart out and crushed it."

"I massaged it! I tried to get it beating!"

"We know, but it made us a little paranoid. We want you out of there as soon as possible."

I hung up and packed, wondering how they could believe I would be so stupid as to kill the President in front of everyone. As soon as I could I rolled my luggage down to the curb and met up with Maria, whose dark eyes were filled with anxiety. I didn't bother to check out. I figured the Paraguayan government could check me out because they checked me in.

Maria and I said nothing in the Town Car as we made our way to the airport. Once we were there, I went through security and then a second station where I had to pay some kind of airport tax to get out of the country. I paid it for both myself and Maria. When we were through I looked around the airport for the private gate that we had come through. I saw it and could see the jet through the windows. Grabbing Maria and my bags, I made a dash across the tarmac to the stairs of the jet with Maria close behind. Just as I was about to climb the steps, a jeep pulled up and two men with guns and another man in camouflage jumped out yelling at me in Spanish.

I turned to Maria because I wasn't keeping up; their Spanish was too fast.

"They say you can't leave, that they need to conduct an autopsy to see who killed the President and until their investigation is done, you can't leave."

"No one killed the President. The President died of natural causes…his heart failed!" My voice was rising in decibels and octaves.

Maria kept calm and tried to translate, but the men weren't having it. I wasn't getting on that plane. I finally turned to Maria and swallowed hard.

"Maria, will they let you leave?"

She turned to me, her dark eyes filled with trepidation. "They said I was free to go, but I can't let you—"

I held up a hand. "No, don't say another word. I want you to get on the plane and go home. Get our equipment out while we can. And when you get home, I want you to call Dr. Susan Friday in Princeton at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Tell her that Brennon needs her. Explain where I am and what's going on, okay?"

Maria nodded.

"And give Brennon a kiss for me. Let him know his mother loves him."

Another nod.

I took a step back so that she could get on the stairs and watched as she slowly climbed to the door. She turned around with tears in her eyes.

"I shouldn't go. Your Spanish isn't that great."

I felt a laugh escape from my mouth. "Don't worry; I can take care of myself. I need someone to call Susan, now go."

The men pulled my arm to get me to back up further and then the one that was obviously in charge motioned for me to get into the jeep. I did and we took off towards the street while the jet's engines whined in preparation for takeoff. Five minutes later as I was riding back to the hotel, I saw the jet fly over my head and I felt both relief and fear as it disappeared out of sight.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**The Siege**

Maria Lopez was met at the airport by a barrage of press, several sober members of the State Department and the Board of Directors from the hospital. The press, looking for Finley, was hungry to find out what had happened between the surgeon and her patient in the operating room. When Finley failed to emerge from the plane speculation went wild and internet rumors began to spread that the Paraguayan government had arrested Finley for murder.

Maria was taken for 'debriefing' at the brick seventies' Federal Building in downtown San Diego. Maria swore that Dr. Doyle had done nothing wrong ; that Finley had worked longer than necessary on the President after his massive heart failure. More importantly, she had proof. "I managed to take the surgical theater video. It was our film from our equipment anyway. They removed it ; but while they were talking, I took it back."

Everyone looked at each other as Maria pulled the digital tape from her purse and handed it over to Dana Krier, the State Department's senior officer.

Dana smiled, "Oh, boy…I can make a lot out of this." She handed it to a junior officer across the table. "Get this to the lab and have a dozen copies made. Send it to the Surgeon General and once he agrees that Dr. Doyle did nothing wrong, send the remainder to cardiac surgeons at Johns Hopkins, the Mayo Clinic, Cedars Sinai, UCLA, and Mass General. Also send one to London and ask them to have their best cardiologist review it. The remainder of the tapes bring back to me and I'll release them to the U.N. and the press once we have cardiologist all over the country claiming she did nothing wrong."

Maria spent five hours being debriefed before she was allowed to make a call back to Susan Friday. "Dr. Friday?"

"Yes?" Susan was sitting in her living room eating a fruit salad. She was waiting for House to call her and had thought the call was from him.

"My name is Maria Lopez. I'm a nurse and I work with Dr. Doyle."

"Oh, Christ. What's happened?"

Maria spent the next fifteen minutes explaining to Susan what the problem was and what Finley had said. By the time Maria hung up, Susan had already started packing. She called her father and ordered the family jet and within two hours was on her way to California with her power of attorney and all of the Friday's family power behind her.

* * *

I was taken back to the hotel and reinstated back in the same room, but before I went up, they took my cell phone and warned me not to make any international calls. My phone was restricted by the operator to local calls only. I asked to talk to the U.S. Ambassador, but that request seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. A couple of guards were stationed outside my room and instructed to follow me wherever I went. I didn't have the stomach to order any food, so I crawled up on the bed and sat staring into space praying that Susan would step up and take care of Brennon.

I was kept in the hotel, allowed to go out to the balcony and to the pool, but I was escorted everywhere I went and told not to leave the hotel. I read the newspapers which seem to indicate that I was to be indicted for murder. CNN reported that I was being held and denied access to the American Ambassador who had apparently been trying to meet with me since day one. It was a little more than two weeks into my "captivity," as CNN was calling it, that I finally saw Jack and Susan Friday at a press conference in Princeton calling for my release. My heart was beating so fast, I was praying that Susan had custody of Brennon and might hold him up for me to see, but the press conference was interrupted by a news bulletin from the State Department indicating that the American Ambassador had been cleared to see me and would be meeting with me within the hour. I turned the television off and heard a knock on the hotel door. I quickly made the bed and picked up a little, then answered. Standing in front of me was Rodrigo Chavez, our ambassador to Paraguay.

* * *

"The court hereby grants temporary custody to Susan Friday and grants permission for Ms. Friday to take Brennon Doyle back to Princeton until his mother is released and reclaims custody."

Susan clutched Brennon to her chest as she shook her lawyer's hand. There was a car waiting to take her and Brennon to the airport where the family jet waited to take them to Princeton. There was nothing more Susan could do in San Diego; she had to go back to work and it was actually more feasible for her to work for Finley's release in Princeton, nearer to Washington D.C. and the U.N. than in San Diego. Jack Friday had already started putting pressure on his sources, but for some reason, Paraguay was insisting on keeping Finley until their investigation was over. The Paraguayans now had a copy of the surgical tape that had been played on CNN and had been seen by the entire English speaking world, showing everything that had led up to the President's death. Surgeons all over the world supported Finley and expressed outrage that she was being held, but the Paraguyan government, now backed into a corner, decided that they would draw out the 'investigation' just to show the population of Paraguay that the United States couldn't browbeat them.

Susan arrived back in Princeton with baby in tow. Furniture had been purchased and had arrived at the loft before Susan had returned. It sat waiting in the hall outside her loft. She called Wilson and Paul to help her move it inside. She figured House wouldn't be much use moving furniture. After an hour and a half, everything was assembled and in place.

Over pizza the two men and Susan discussed Finley's case and then Wilson went over to the crib to take a look at the sleeping ten month old. He turned and gave Susan a strange look. "I didn't even know she was pregnant."

"It happened after she moved to San Diego. A one night stand."

"You're kidding!"

"No, but isn't he adorable?"

"I have to admit, he's a nice looking baby. I don't remember you saying anything about her being pregnant or having a baby."

"I didn't. She didn't want anyone back here to know. I think she was a little embarrassed and didn't want to give House any fodder for torture. But, in reality, it doesn't matter; she never comes back here to see me anyway."

Paul frowned at the mention of House. "House is an ass. He probably hates kids."

"No, actually House likes kids, especially babies. It's when they learn how to talk that he has problems. But, surprisingly, kids seem to like him." Wilson said.

Susan nodded as she poured herself another glass of wine. "That's true. Whenever we're around kids he seems to relate to them."

"That's because he's a big kid himself." Paul remarked.

Wilson shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Well, that's one cute kid. I hope his mother gets to hold him soon." Yawning, Wilson walked back to gather his things. "I need to get some sleep. If you need anything, let me know."

Wilson left. Paul turned and looked Susan in the eyes. "What if she doesn't come back? What if they find her guilty of murder?"

"I'm his guardian until she returns. He's mine until then. If something happens to her I'm going to raise him."

"You'd raise someone else's kid?"

"I'd raise Brennon."

"Hmm."

"You don't sound enthusiastic. You know, I'm not asking you to help." Susan said.

"I want kids, but not someone else's."

"I didn't want any kids! But, he's different. He's Brennon and I can't abandon him."

"Don't get me wrong; I agree with you. He needs someone who loves him. It's just a little rattling." Paul said, holding up a hand to indicate she didn't have to say anything more.

"Tell me about it."

"You know, we need to talk. Talk about you, me and House. I don't think I can handle this threesome anymore."

"It's a foursome. You forgot Brennon."

"If you come with Brennon, that's fine. If you come with House…well that has two connotations doesn't it? Anyway, you get the drift."

"Yeah, I get it--no House." Susan said, her heart sinking with the realization that moment had come where she needed to make a decision.

"Yes, no House. I want all of you. If you don't want to commit then let me know and I'll be out of your life."

Susan sighed. She had expected this sooner than it had come. Surprisingly it wasn't House that had given her the ultimatum. In fact, he hadn't given her any flack about Paul. He had seemingly accepted that she had two boyfriends, two lovers, that he shared her with another man. Paul had thrown in the occasional dig, but Susan was adamant that if he wasn't ready to commit, then neither was she and he would have to accept that House was in her life. She also made it clear that she didn't expect him to be monogamous. For over a year Paul had accepted it and had dated other women, but he had slowly come to realize that he was in love with Susan and the thought of her sharing House's bed was more than he could take now.

"Paul. Right now I can't think of you or House. Brennon is my main focus and until he and I get some type of routine, it's going to be like that. So if you're expecting answers, I can't give them to you."

Paul knew that to push her now would just push her away, so he nodded. "I understand. I think I should go now so that you and Brennon can start settling in. He's a good baby, very quiet."

Smiling, Susan turned to look at Brennon asleep in the portable crib in the corner of the living room. "He's had a long day. He isn't always this quiet."

Paul smiled with his perfectly formed lips and crinkling blue eyes. Leaning in he gave her a kiss before grabbing his keys and taking off.

* * *

Susan could tell that Brennon missed his mother. After thirty straight minutes of inconsolable crying on his part and Susan trying a bottle, changing his diaper and rocking him, she finally took him into her room, laid him on the bed and crawled in beside the little creature, rubbing his tummy until he finally calmed down and fell asleep. Emotionally exhausted, she fell asleep a few minutes later.

The next morning, Susan bundled Brennon up against the cold January morning and managed to get them to PPTH without running off the icy roads. Getting out of the car she was met by Lisa Cuddy.

"Is that a baby?" Lisa asked.

Susan burst out laughing. "Uh, yeah… " She got the stroller out and pulled Brennon from the car seat, strapping him into the stroller.

"Whose?"

"Finley's."

Her jaw dropped. "Finley Doyle has a child?"

"Yes and I'm his guardian. That's why I needed the time off. I'm going to drop him off at the daycare while I make rounds and see a few patients. Luckily, I haven't been that busy."

Lisa stood staring at the baby. "What's his name?"

"Brennon."

She bent over and smiled at Brennon. "Brennon, how are you sweetie? Do you miss Mommy?"

"He does, believe me."

"Need any help?"

Susan shook her head. "I can't believe how much gear goes with having one of them."

"No shit Sherlock. If you need anything, just ask. I've got a lot of stuff up in the attic. I keep meaning to bring it in for the pediatrics' ward, to give to indigent families, but I keep forgetting."

"Thanks."

Crossing the parking lot, Susan took Brennon straight to the day care center and then went on rounds. At noon she was making her way down to see Brennon when House caught her.

"Hey, you ran off to San Diego without saying goodbye. Any news on Finley?"

"Gee Greg, if I didn't know you, I'd swear you almost sound concerned."

"I am damn it. How is she?"

Susan was nonplussed. From the wild look in his eyes, he clearly did care desperately how she was. "I don't really know. They wouldn't let the Ambassador in at first, but now I think they've met, but he's working on it."

"This is ridiculous."

"Greg, you sound really upset. It's nice to know that deep down you do care about Finley."

"She saved my life, twice. Of course I care."

"Well, if it's any consolation; I have guardianship of her son."

House reacted as if he had just been hit by a blow dart. "What?"

"She never wanted you to know because you're so cruel to her. But, since you're willing to admit that you do care, I don't think she'd mind you knowing."

House stared intensely at her. "Where's this baby?"

The fact that he had to control his voice scared Susan. "Down in day care…why?"

House took off as fast as his legs could take him. Susan, who was already headed in that direction followed behind. Bursting through doors of the daycare, House searched and found the babies, all ten of them. His eyes landed on a little boy with the beginnings of brown hair and the most dazzling blue eyes he had ever seen. The shape of his face reminded him of Finley, but the knot in his stomach told him the eyes were his.

"Crap!"

"Greg, what's going on?"

"How old is he?" House asked as he went over and leaned down into the cradle to pick the baby up.

"He was born March 6th, a little over ten months ago."

House could feel his breath catch and his heart race.

"_Greg! What is going on?"_

"Who's his father?"

"George something. He was a one night stand that Finley had when she got to California. She doesn't even know his last name."

"Yeah, right." House picked the baby up and held him, admiring his perfect little face, the face of a baby you'd expect on the cover of a baby cereal box. He had a look of intelligence and affability rolled into one tiny package.

"No, seriously. She doesn't know."

House plunged his nose in the neck of the child he held in his arms and smiled. He smelled like Johnson's baby powder and formula. He smelled like a healthy little baby. House turned to put him in the crib and as he did, pulled a strand of hair out of his head causing the baby to scrunch his face and cry out.

Susan, who hadn't seen what he had done, pushed House away from the crib. "What happened?"

"I think I may have pinched his finger between my leg and the crib.

The baby calmed down immediately.

House continued to stare for over a minute, saying nothing. The baby stared back, arms waving up in the air. He turned over, crawled to the crib rail and pulled himself up to have a look at House. Susan took him out of the crib and held him. House turned and left, leaving Susan wondering what was going on in his brain.

* * *

The following evening while Susan made herself a salad, the door opened causing her to jump. Holding the knife up as protection, she started towards the door. Then she heard the cane and knew it was House. He walked past her and sat down on the couch staring at the playpen as the baby played, putting rattles and toys in his mouth and pulling himself up to stand. Brennon stopped and stared back. Blue eyes meeting blue eyes.

"Greg? What's going on? Why are you acting so strange?"

House said nothing for several minutes, but continued to watch the playpen. Susan stood by the kitchen island and watched him, not sure what she should do and feeling very uneasy.

House finally turned and looked at her. "What's his name?"

"Brennon Aidan Doyle."

He nodded.

"Greg, please tell me what's going on?"

"I'm going to be taking him."

Susan started laughing. "You had me going! Whew. That was freaky."

"Susan, I'm going to file for custody tomorrow."

Surprisingly, his demeanor was dead serious. Susan started to protest, to tell him he was absurd and then the truth behind his words started to seep in. "Are you saying that Brennon is your child?"

"Yes. I have the DNA results. I pulled a hair from his head yesterday and had it checked."

"_You slept with Finley?" _Her voice started to rise causing the baby to look over to see what was wrong.

"Once, just once. It was just before she left—literally the day before she left."

Susan could feel the room spinning around her. She grabbed a stool and sat down. "You and Finley slept together behind my back? All that pretending to hate each other was to throw me off?"

He shook his head, but smiled to himself. "All that was me trying to deny what I was feeling for her. I didn't want to hurt you and Finley didn't either. Her move back to California was so she could get away from me. She felt guilty. While she was here we weren't lovers or anything close to it, but there had been something between us ever since you were stabbed. Both of us tried not to give into what we were feeling and we didn't until I found out she was leaving. And there's the result of our one day of carnal knowledge."

Susan looked at Brennon again. The eyes, the fucking blue eyes. How did she miss it? "So you're the married man." She said rather than asked. House looked perplexed, but Susan ignored him. "Do you love her?"

He put his hand to his forehead and bent over, resting his elbow on his knee. "I have feelings for both of you. But, I'm not going to deny it; I love Finley."

The words pierced her like a knife through her heart. House had never said he loved her, yet he could say it about Finley. "So that's why it never bothered you that I was dating Paul?"

He shrugged. "I guess. I wanted you to be happy and if Paul could make you happy then I was okay with sharing you."

"And to think I felt guilty about my affair."

"I told you it didn't really matter, that I had been unfaithful too."

"And this is what you meant?"

"Yes."

"How could Finley have your son and not tell you?"

"I think she didn't want you to know he was mine. I'm trying to tell you that Finley has been trying to keep you and I together out of her guilt and love for you."

"Some love." Susan said sarcastically. They looked over and saw that Brennon had fallen asleep.

"Susan, watch it, you live in a glass house. Finley was a good friend who made one mistake. When she realized how she felt about me, she made arrangements to leave Princeton to avoid what happened that last day. She's not perfect, but she really is a good friend."

Susan shook her head. "Christ, now I can't even look at him without feeling anger and hurt."

"Brennon?"

"Yes."

"Fine then. I'll take him now."

"No, I'm his legal guardian."

"But, you can't take care of a baby you resent. He deserves to be with someone who wants him."

"You want him?"

House let out a laugh. "Well, there's wanting and then there's wanting. I never wanted kids, you know that. But, I see her in him and I know he's mine. I can't explain it, but he seems to make what we felt for each other seem real. Yeah, I want him."

Susan broke down crying, her face smothered in her fingers. House held back but then stood up and went to her, holding his arms out. Undecided, she hesitated, but then she took a few steps forward into his arms.

"I'm sorry that we hurt you. Obviously, Finley loves you enough to give you her son in case something like this happened; she loves you that much."

"I'm sorry if I'm not exactly feeling the same right now."

House hugged her tightly. "I understand. But try not to focus on what happened that one afternoon…focus on the fact that she abandoned her life and moved back to California to try and protect you."

"You and I are over, aren't we?"

He chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't mind a quickie now and then, but I have a feeling that Paul might not approve. I had a visit from him today and he told me that I needed to make some decisions."

"Greg, I don't know if I can give you up. I've tried before. I've told myself how much I want to be with Paul, but I keep showing up at your door, don't I?"

"Maybe this will give you the push you need. I love Finley. I don't know what I'm going to do about it."

"Oh, God. It's real. You really love her. I never thought that the decision on whether to leave you would be taken out of my hands."

"It's not as if you don't have someone who loves you waiting in the wings, even if he is a Pommy."

"Oh, I know. But, you have to realize there's a reason I haven't been able to give you up. I do love you, Greg. I doubt that I could live with you for the rest of my life, but it's hard to imagine you not in my life."

He gave her a kiss on her head. "I think I understand more than you know. You're not the first woman to say that to me."

"I hate to admit this, but I can see Finley keeping you in line. When she puts her mind to something, there's no moving her."

"Yeah, I know that too."

"I'm not giving you Brennon tonight. He's content and all this moving around without his mother has been hard on the little tyke. Tomorrow you can take him for awhile, but you have to bring him back. We'll work out a way for you to have all the time you want with him. But he's my responsibility and I can't just hand him over. If you want to spend the night, you can."

"I think I'd like that."

They talked for another hour and then Brennon woke up crying. Susan made a bottle and handed it to House. "He's your son, you can feed him."

House rolled his eyes but went to the crib and picked the crying creature up. Sitting on the couch he fed Brennon while the baby gave him a stern look of suspicion. "I'm your Dad so you can relax. I'm not going to throw you out the window." He watched as Brennon sucked the bottle in earnest. "You're heavier than I thought you'd be." There was a rumble in Brennon's diaper as the boy's face turned slightly red and then relaxed. "That little shit. He just dropped a load in his diaper!"

"I've discovered that his favorite time to do that is when he's taking a bottle. There a diaper and wipes back in the guest room. When he's done with his bottle you can take him back and change him."

"Me?"

"Yes, you who claimed you were taking your son!"

"Yeah, I forgot about dirty diapers."

Despite protests and a screwed up face while he undid the diaper, House wiped and changed him, even managing not to get peed on. After snapping the onesy closed, House tickled the baby and brought out a smile revealing eight teeth.

House yelled out from the guest room. "Does Fin still breast feed him?"

"I think she said she had to stop a few months ago. Why?"

"I was just looking at these teeth and well, you know."

Susan laughed. "Yeah, I've had similar thoughts."

Eyes wide open, Brennon waved his arms around in the air.

"Is he supposed to be this awake?" House asked as he carried the baby into the living room.

"Sometimes he wakes up at night and wants to party. Kinda like you." She walked over and gave Brennon a smile. "Damn, it's hard to stay mad at him. He's such a beautiful baby. I don't believe I didn't see the resemblance."

"He is a handsome kid, isn't he?"

Susan shook her head and rolled her eyes.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**Still LIfe**

Rodrigo Chavez had been not only kind, but helpful. He gave me information on exactly what was being said in the UN, the press and worldwide. Confident that I would be exonerated or Paraguay would lose the support of the U.S. he let me know that the Paraguayans needed to save face and keep me until they could announce to the people of Paraguay that they had conducted a full investigation and I was cleared. He had been assured by someone higher up that it would be a few weeks, maybe three and then I'd be released. He gave me a note from Susan that had been written a week after I was held "captive." Although it wasn't very recent, it was comforting.

_Dear Fin,_

_I have Brennon. The court awarded me custody today and I am headed back to Princeton (have to work.) Dad and I are making progress on getting you released, but he says it looks like it will take about a month with as slow as things are in Paraguay. _

_Brennon misses you, but he seems to have taken to me. We're bonding and frankly, good luck getting him back, I kind of like the little guy. I'm buying him a proper wardrobe, lots of Ralph and Juicy Couture. I love you and miss you. Keep your spirits up._

_Love, Susan_

I spent my days in the hotel gym, by the pool and enjoying the free bar paid for by the people of Paraguay. I'm not much of a drinker, so I usually stopped drinking after two. Still, I became friends with the bartender and waitress who was Mexican-American, but had come down with her Paraguayan boyfriend.

I was watching the nightly recap of the so-called, "investigation." An investigation in which I had never even been asked what happened by anyone who worked for the Paraguay government. Sitting in the bar, there were very few patrons at four in the afternoon so Miguel had turned the television up so I could hear. He had switched it to CNN so that I could hear the news in English.

After a one minute recap of the latest outrage from some foreign dignitary, the news announce came on. "And in a related matter, the guardian of Dr. Doyle's eleven month old son, Susan Friday, made an unannounced visit to the State Department to lobby for the release of her friend, Dr. Doyle. The baby, Brennon Doyle, smiled for the cameras and tried to put the mike in his mouth. For more on this, we turn now to our Washington correspondent, Drake Wentworth. Drake?"

On the television was a clip of Susan holding a lively Brennon in her arms as she tried to talk while he made several squealing noises that drowned her out. She said something about my captivity, but I didn't hear it, I had crossed the room to the screen and was staring at my beautiful little boy. He looked healthy and happy, which gave me great relief.

"Miguel! That's my son!"

"Yes? He's very…guapo."

"You're right, he is handsome."

I watched as Brennon reached for the mike and tried to put his mouth on it only to have everyone laughing. The news reporter pulled it back gently and asked another question. Susan turned and handed Brennon over to someone off camera. I wondered who was holding my son.

"…yes, I have custody of Brennon for now. But I'm confident that Brennon will have his mother back soon."

The camera panned to Brennon and my heart stopped. I tumbled back, falling into a chair. Holding Brennon was Greg, looking very natural with Brennon in his arms. Together there was a deep resemblance that I had never noticed before.

_He knows. He has to know. Look at how he's holding Brennon. Look at how much they look alike. Oh no. Now what? _

Greg looked handsome and, by all the bouncing and the quick hug, he seemed to be fond of the baby. My heart was doing all kinds of strange things at the sight of the boys I loved the most. And then they were gone. I spent the rest of the night watching CNN just to see the clip played over and over again until they stopped showing it early the next morning.

I wished I had a DVR so I could stop the clip and rewatch it. God I missed them.

Taking his reading glasses off, the judge turned to address the petitioner, "Dr. House, you've proven to this court that Brennon Adrian Doyle is your biological son and through your witnesses it's clear that you did not know of his existence until recently. We all know that Dr. Doyle is clearly being held in Paraguay as part of an investigation into the death of their President. In light of the fact that the law favors the biological parent, I would normally grant you full custody. However, Dr. Doyle wanted her friend, Susan Friday, to have custody in case of her death or absence. Therefore, I'm going to grant you temporary joint custody along with Dr. Friday. Counsel, please have your clients meet and reach an amicable schedule for custody and submit it for my approval. I want to caution you, Dr. House, this doesn't give you permanent custody. If you want that, you're going to have to petition the court for it in California."

House turned to Susan and gave her a smile. Susan wasn't upset at all. She loved the idea of sharing custody with House; it was difficult being a single mother, even with a housekeeper. She was tired all the time and in the months since she'd had Brennon, there'd been no time to go out, relax, have a little fun. Paul was trying to be understanding, but each time he showed up at Susan's apartment, House was there playing with the baby.

Susan and House went out and bought minimal baby equipment for House's apartment, including a portable crib like the one in Susan's living room. Driving over to House's apartment, Susan wanted to scream, "Hallelujah, free at last, free at last!", But she didn't want House to know how trapped she felt watching an eleven month old. Still, Susan had to admit it had its moments. When he'd laugh and spit and squeal and play and sleep…there were times when she desperately wished she were a mother. But, there was no doubt it was hard work and on top of teaching and being a doctor, it was exhausting.

As soon as they entered the apartment, they both realized that the apartment was a death trap for the now walking toddler. House had been eating pizza when Brennon, who had been pulling himself up and walking from couch to chair to table by holding on, finally got brave enough to go after the plastic Fischer Price Truck in the middle of the floor. Three wobbly steps and he landed back on his diapered butt, both surprising him and causing House to choke on his pizza.

"Whoa! Whoa! He just walked…Suz, he just walked!"

Susan came running out from the bedroom, drying her hair in a towel. "What?"

House was now sitting next to Brennon. "He walked! He took three steps and then bam, took a six pint Guinness dive on his butt."

"Really?" She went over to Brennon, picked him up and stood him in the middle of room. "Come on Brennon, go see Daddy. Walk over to Daddy."

House held out his arms. "Come on Bren, come on. Come here."

Brennon stood pondering the situation. He wasn't sure what they wanted him to do or if he should do it. The fall hadn't hurt because of the padding, but it had surprised him. The man in front of him wanted to cuddle, but wasn't coming over to get him. _What do they want?_

"Dude, come on, come to Daddy."

Brennon turned slightly to look behind him at Susan. "Go on sweetie. Go to Daddy."

Brennon took one large step forward and then another before falling forward. He thought for sure he was going to fall on his face, but the guy caught him and wrapped him up in his arms, giving him kisses and telling him what a great job he did.

Susan was squealing and clapping. Kisses flew from both of them and then there was silence. "Oh, crap." Susan said quietly.

House nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Big milestone and Mommy's being held in a third world country."

"Poor Fin. This is going to kill her that she wasn't here for this."

But there was no stopping Brennon. Walking was now his favorite thing to do and House's apartment had too many furniture corners for him to fall on and hurt himself. House started picking up things that could get broken or pulled down. Susan started working on the angles of the furniture, putting them in positions to prevent injury or softening the corners with towels. Brennon was placed in the portable crib to keep him from ransacking the place while they baby-proofed it. He started jumping and screaming, eventually crying, dying to get out and explore. After an hour, the adults decided that they had done what they could until they could get to Walmart and buy some baby-proof locks.

"Come on Bren, I'll spring ya. You're outta there." House reached and grabbed the cranky baby, setting him down on the floor. Like a spring he was up and bouncing from object to object in search of the perfect object to put in his mouth and choke on.

"No! Not that, Bren. Here give it to me." Susan wrenched a guitar clamp from his hand. "Maybe he should come back with me until we have more time to spend 'Brennonizing 'your apartment."

"Why don't you spend the night and we can work on it while you're here?"

She was tempted. They hadn't had sex for several weeks and she missed feeling him between her thighs, but Susan was still hurt, hurt that he could sleep with her best friend. His only saving grace was that she had cheated too and he had owned up to cheating on her. To some extent, he had been honest with her; he just didn't tell her who it was. But, she was really trying to give him up for Paul and it hadn't been easy. "Sorry, but I have a date tonight."

"Paul?"

Nodding, she grabbed her coat and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Greg, it's over between us. I'll try like hell to rebuild my friendship with Finley and I hope that you and I can stay friends, but I'm not sure that will happen. We'll have to see."

He swallowed hard and gave her a curt nod to let her know he understood. She gave Brennon a kiss on the cheek and was out the door. Brennon broke into tears. "Bro, we don't need any women. Come on." House smiled as he bounced the baby up and down. Brennon stopped crying and started laughing as House made funny faces and quacking sounds. "Simple things amuse simple people. You're going to have to learn to be more sophisticated in your humor. The Three Stooges would be a step up with you."

After an hour, Brennon went down for the night. House grabbed a bottle of Maker's Mark and poured himself half his normal glass, sipping on it for an hour. He watched CNN to find out what was being done about Finley, but she was no longer news. An earthquake had hit Jakarta and people were rushing to get there to provide relief. Finley's captivity was back burner.

House sat back and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and trying to digest the last month. He had lost a girlfriend, gained a son, and didn't know if the woman he really loved was going to return to him and if she did, what, if anything would be their relationship? Everything in his body screamed that he should run from this…it could get ugly, more importantly he might have to feel things he didn't want to feel. He might be rejected.

Even stranger were the feelings he had for the tiny creature in his apartment. Kids need patience and patience was never his strong suit. But just one smile, one milestone, one curious moment when Brennon discovered something new in his world, made House want to be that father—the patient father, the father who was fair, the father who could actually love his son. He ached for his son, worried that he might lead the solitary life of a genius because even he could see his son was exceptionally bright for an eleven month old.

Just a few days ago, Brennon had held something up to House for House to supply the name of it. "Book. That's a book. You read a book. You get information from a book. You spell it b.o.o.k."

Brennon looked back at the book with deep curiosity, dropped it to the floor and then opened it up as if he now knew that this was a book and it had information. For a few minutes he studied the pages with a strange and solemn curiosity looking up from time to time to see if House was paying attention to this new object and to him. House thought he might tear the pages, but surprisingly Brennon handled the pages delicately.

House finished his Maker's Mark and decided to call it a night. After taking a boat load of ibuprofen, he crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep, content that for that night he was that father, the only father his son had.

Waking up at three am was no joy, but House didn't mind. The sound of Brennon expecting House to attend to him was a call to arms and House enthusiastically answered it. A bottle of formula, a changed diaper and a onesie with puke stains on it, a little standing and rocking and Brennon was asleep again. House put him in the middle of the bed, climbed in and placed Brennon on top of his chest, next to his heart. An hour later House woke up and put his son next to him where they slept comfortably until six the next morning.

Over the next few days, House learned how to function on as little as four hours of sleep. On the sixth day, Susan stopped by the apartment and asked if she could take Brennon for a few days, she missed him.

House grabbed her and kissed her on the lips out of gratitude. "Oh, thank you sweet Goddess!"

Susan started howling. "I take it you need a break!"

"I'd be lying if I said no. I just need eight hours straight."

"Well, I'll take him for the weekend and drop him off at the daycare on Monday."

"I love you." House flittered around, picking up some odds and ends and then grabbing Brennon from his playpen. "Dude, you've got a sleepover date with a beautiful woman, don't blow it. I'll see you on Monday." There was a big grin and deep sigh as Susan left holding Brennon's hand tightly as they walked the length of the hall. Brennon turned around in the hall and gave his Dad a sad look of abandonment, the look of someone who had just been betrayed by a traitor. His little lip budded out as a tear began to form. House closed the door slowly, feeling as if he had been severely chastised by one look.

_Just eight hours…I need just eight hours._

Susan looked at the clock and then at Paul.

Paul sat up in bed. "Who could that be?"

Susan knew right away. "I'm afraid I have something he wants."

"What?"

"It has to be Greg." She said as she jumped up and grabbed a t-shirt, putting it on along with some panties.

"You're going to put on more than that-aren't you?"

Susan rolled her eyes at Paul. "Paul, you are joking, right? I mean—"

He held up a hand. "Fine, I get it. I get it." He sat up on the edge of the bed.

Susan ran to the door. "Yes, yes, I'm coming. Stop your banging."

It was House. "I want him back."

"But, I've only had him—"

"Eight and a half hours. I know. I got some sleep and now I can take him back."

"Take him back? Greg! Come on. It's three am."

House pushed past her and went straight to the guest room.

A male voice yelled from the hallway. "House, can't this wait until tomorrow?"

House turned and saw Paul St. John in the hallway in his boxers, hands on his hips and a look of disgust. Susan stood a few feet from him, unable to look at House or Paul, her arms wrapped around her chest.

"I'll be out of your way in a few minutes, after I get my son."

Susan rushed forward, putting her hand on his upper arm. Softly she whispered to him, "Greg, he's asleep. Please don't wake him. It took me a long time to get him to bed. Come back for him in the morning, okay?"

House looked at her and realized that Susan deserved better than waking her up in the middle of the morning. "Yeah, you're right. I'll just sleep here in the guest room."

"Oh, no. No!" Paul said emphatically.

"Paul…come on." Susan gave Paul a look of disappointment. "He wants to be near his son."

"He can be near him tomorrow."

"Come on Greg, I'll get you a blanket. The only thing on the bed is the summer duvet." Susan ignored Paul and went to the linen closet to pull out a blanket.

Paul threw up his hands and went to bed. Susan eventually followed, but couldn't sleep. She slipped out of bed and went out to the living room where she found House sitting on the couch watching television.

"You watch CNN too?" She asked. "I keep hoping to see something on Fin. But, the news has gone cold."

House nodded in agreement.

"Greg, when she comes back what are you going to do?"

"I don't think that's the question. It's what is she going to do?"

"Do you love her enough to move to California?"

"I can't move to California. No one will hire me in California; I burned…no, I _nuked_ a few bridges there."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"I'm a real charmer."

"I miss her." Susan said sitting back on the sofa and putting her bare feet up on the coffee table.

"I thought you were mad at her for screwing your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, well I am. But I miss her too."

"Does that mean you might forgive us?"

"I'm getting there, but not yet. Have you told her you love her?"

"No."

"She doesn't know you love her?"

"I didn't say the words. I did ask her to stay."

"Ask her to stay?"

"Before she left, I asked her to stay in Princeton."

"But she said no?"

He nodded. "She didn't want to hurt you. By then she had already signed the contract in California."

"They would have let her out of it. Lisa would have hired her back."

"Maybe, but she chose to leave."

"Did she say that she loved you?"

"No. It wasn't like that. We just kinda understood it."

"Kinda, sorta, understood that she loves you?"

"Yeah. She said something like 'that afternoon would have to last her a whole lifetime'."

"Finley said that? Little Miss Straight-Arrow has wild abandoned sex with her best friend's boyfriend and then claims the afternoon will have to last her whole life? That's the most romantic, crazy ass thing she's ever done."

"Yes, that would be Finley Doyle."

Susan settled back and hugged the chenille pillow. "You're lucky, Greg. She's the best person I know. Despite what she did, she's usually loyal, sweet, focused, hard headed, intelligent, loving and not to mention, the best mother I know."

"Considering not many of your friends have kids, that's not much of an endorsement."

"You know what I mean. Your son has a great mother."

"My son." He said wistfully.

"Weird, huh? I never thought you'd be a Dad." She ran a hand through her hair and pulled her knees up under her chin. "I have to admit, you make great babies. He's really sweet."

"Sweet? Face it…he's handsome, brilliant, coordinated and such a winning personality!"

"And all in an eleven month old! I'm going to bed now, you should too."

"I just slept eight hours…I'm wide awake."

House was about to turn the channel when they both stopped in their tracks. "…just in. After this message from our sponsors we'll bring you this breaking story: Paraguay claims that it has completed its investigation into the death of President Villarica and have found suspicious circumstances."

House and Susan sat up straight, looked at each other and joined hands as they watched a commercial for a Ford 150.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**Judgment Day**

I had my first grilling by the officials eight weeks into my 'captivity'. I was taken downtown to what I assume was their version of the FBI and interrogated for just an hour before everyone smiled at me and let me go back to my hotel. I felt more like I had been asked to tea than interrogated. It was absolutely bizarre.

A day later, the Ambassador looked glum as he approached me. I sat next to the pool nursing my third margarita of the day, a task I had managed to perfect over the last two months. He took off his sun glasses and sat down next to my lounge chair. Rodrigo Chavez was in his late forties although he looked younger. At some point you could tell he was a handsome man, but too many burritos and cervezas and he was now a pudgy guy whose pants didn't fit.

"I have bad news for you Dr. Doyle."

My heart skipped and I felt a bead of sweat break out on my forehead. "They're going to charge me?"

"Oh, no. Didn't you get my message?"

"What message?" I looked around.

"I left you a message that they have cleared you, but we can't get you a flight to California until tomorrow."

"But just three weeks ago they found that he died under suspicious circumstances. What were the suspicious circumstances? Did they tell you?"

"They didn't want to come clean. But after Jack Friday suspended all deliveries of steel to Asuncion, they told me in secret that something the President was given or ate contained nightshade and triggered the initial heart attack. They also told me that you could leave, but they wanted you out as quickly and quietly as possible."

"Oh, wow. That is scary. Can you get me on a flight to Philadelphia or New York today?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, it's late, but let me make a call." He stepped away from the table and walked over to a chair under a large fern that shaded him from the late afternoon heat.

Fifteen minutes later he was rushing back to the table.

"Get your things! There's a plane leaving in an hour, we've got you on it. You'll be flying into Newark, New Jersey. Is that close enough to Princeton? I assume you're going after your son."

"You assume right and Newark will do. I'll rent a car."

I hustled up to my room, packed, peed and grabbed my bag. When we reached the airport, everyone was already on the flight ready to go and the plane was waiting for me. The embassy had managed to sneak me out of the hotel and onto the plane without the press getting wind of it. I had only kept the other passengers waiting five minutes, so no one was really upset. In Latin America, a five minute delay means you're early. We took off and landed in Dallas before the next leg took us to Atlanta and the last leg to Newark. After renting a Prius I took off in a south-west direction, arriving in Princeton fourteen hours after leaving Paraguay. I hadn't slept on the plane; I was too excited about seeing Brennon.

I still didn't have a cell phone. Some bureaucrat in Paraguay probably had it and was enjoying a new 3S iPhone. It put me at a disadvantage. I didn't know who had Brennon-- Susan or Greg. I suspected it would be Susan since Greg was a kidophobe. It was eight in the morning and I thought I might be able to catch Susan at home before she went to work. When I parked, I looked up to the penthouse and butterflies filled my stomach. I prayed that my little boy was upstairs.

I knocked on her door and yelled, "Susan, let me in!"

But there was no sound from inside. She'd obviously already gone into work. I decided that it would be easier to run by PPTH than to check Greg's apartment across town. I arrived at PPTH and ran inside to the daycare, but Brennon wasn't there. I took the elevator to Susan's office and discovered that she was out of the office for a couple of hours at a free seminar on new developments in oncology. There were a lot of hugs from the staff and whoops of joy when my former surgical nurse saw me. We both started crying.

"Have you seen Brennon?" Nancy asked.

"I'm trying to find him."

"Oh, I know I saw him this morning. Susan brought him in so he's either in daycare or with his Dad. And what's up with that? You slept with Greg House? Ewwww."

I laughed. "You wouldn't be saying that if you'd been the one who slept with him."

"That good?"

"Oh, yeah. Is Greg's office still on the fourth floor?"

"Yes."

"I've got to go…I'll check back with you later."

"It's so good to have you home."

"Thanks." I gave her a goodbye hug and ran down the stairs. Inside Greg's office looked like a nursery. There were baby toys everywhere and a portable playpen. I was flabbergasted. There was no doubt from his office that he was an active Dad. But neither Dad nor baby were in the room, but a diaper bag fresh with a banana was. Brennon was in the building.

I laughed and took off, searching floor by floor for Brennon until I reached the third floor and saw Greg, his back to me, with Brennon by the hand. My baby was walking!

"_Brennon!" _I screamed and everyone within earshot stopped and looked.

Greg whirled around as Brennon turned at the sound of my voice. I started running just as Bren began his Charlie Chaplin run towards me, giggling and squealing. I was already sobbing by the time his little body made impact with my arms. Up he went and the kisses began. I alternated between hugging and kissing and hugging and kissing. It must have been too much; I must have frightened him because his face wrinkled up and he began to whimper.

House crossed the floor so quickly I thought he no longer had a limp. He stood in front of me, just staring as if I were a ghost…no, more like a zombie. I thought he was going to start yelling at me about Brennon. He was so confused, he didn't know what to do. First he made a move towards me, then to Brennon and then he just threw his arms around both of us.

He whispered in my ear. "This baby isn't going back to California."

My whole body tensed. Eyes wide, I looked into his. "What do you mean?"

"I've already petitioned for custody."

"You won't get it. I'm a good mother." I said defensively, now feeling frightened.

His face relaxed. "I know you're a good mother. That's why you're moving back to Princeton and we're going to raise the little bastard together."

I looked at him and saw that it was Greg being Greg. Manipulation at its finest. Go for the jugular right off the bat to throw you off. Well he did throw me off, but I could also see something behind his eyes, his fear that I'd say no-- his fear that his tactics weren't going to work. Sometimes Greg's approach was horrid. This was the one time that he should have used honey instead of vinegar.

I gripped Brennon tightly in my arms. "You don't scare me. No judge will take my baby away from me. You may get partial custody, but he'll live in California if that's where I live." Looking up into his eyes, I could see how tired he was, the exhaustion that comes with living with a baby and trying to work. "You look tired."

All pretense collapsed. "I need help. He's a handful."

"Where's Susan?"

"Playing house with Paul." He frowned. "She helps, but I figure he's mine and the lion's share of the work should be mine too. "

I kissed Bren's head again. "What do you think of him?"

"Well if you were thinking of getting me something for my birthday, this wasn't exactly what I was imagining. I'd rather have a Kindle."

"Gregggg." My voice warned him not to kid about a thing like this.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that this isn't what I expected, but he's here, he's mine and I want to see where this goes."

"This?"

"My relationship with my son, he…he amuses me."

I eyed him over, looking for some weakness, a false move, but there wasn't one. The look on his face told me that he wasn't doing this to be devious; he was serious about wanting his son.

"I'm a little shocked. I didn't think you'd want anything to do with Bren and me once you knew about him."

"I have to admit, after a few nights of poop, vomit and lack of sleep, I had some real doubts about this. I thought about giving him back, I knew I could walk away; Susan was willing to take him. But, he and I share something…maybe it's just DNA, but it feels like we know each other. Hell, I don't understand it." He paused, taking a deep breath he looked down at the floor. "Don't take him back to California, stay here, with me."

I ignored the issue. I just wasn't ready to think about it. "Susan must hate me now."

"She's not happy, but she still loves you. Hell, I'm not happy with you. But Susan _really_ loves Brennon."

I wrinkled my forehead and shook my head in disbelief. "I know, how weird is that? So will she be glad to see me?"

He was still standing with his arms around Bren and me. I could see the staff staring in awe at the sight of Gregory House showing affection to a woman. "It's going to be like the mother whose child runs out into traffic. First she'll hug and kiss you and then she'll beat the shit out of you."

"Oh, great."

"Well what do you expect? We screwed around on her and had a kid—a constant reminder that we did the deed."

"He's beautiful isn't he?"

"I take it back, you're a crappy mother…he's handsome, not beautiful."

"If we don't move to your office, I think all of PPTH is going to be up here gawking at us."

He looked around and saw a crowd forming. "You have a point."

As we walked through the corridors, people had their cell phones out and were taking pictures, several which showed up on the evening news. Those who knew me stopped me to hug or welcome me home.

Wilson pushed through and gave me a great big hug, whispering in my ear, "You'd be proud of House. He's really stepped up to the plate. Brennon and House really get along."

"I can tell. Bren seems very happy.

They entered the office where I finally put Bren down and watched as he waddled around, picking up things and bringing them to her. "I can't believe he learned to walk while I was gone."

"Sorry. He walked for both Susan and me at the same time."

The phone rang.

"House." There was a pause. "She's up here. Yeah…yeah." He looked at the receiver as if they had hung up. He put the phone down and looked at me. "Susan…better prepare."

My heart started fluttering. I wanted desperately to see her, but not to confront her over the infidelity. I had very little time to prepare because she burst through the office door in less than two minutes. I stood and she grabbed me, crying her eyes out.

"Oh, God. I've been so worried, so worried!" She stepped back to look at me, smiled and then the smile dropped and she slapped me hard across my face. "You bitch!"

My hand flew up to my stinging cheek. "Owww! That hurt."

"Yeah, well try finding out your best friend slept with your boyfriend."

"Okay, that hurt even more. Susan, I tried so hard to get away before—"

"Oh, just shut up. There's no excuse for what you did. You two should have come to me like adults and told me that you had feelings for each other."

House and Finley looked each other and burst out laughing. "Susan, up until the day we slept together, I thought Greg hated me. That's the truth."

Susan looked at the two of them. "That makes you even more pathetic. Have you gotten your act together?"

"I've only been here ten minutes and most of that was saying hello to everyone."

"So you don't know if you're going to move back to Princeton?"

I flinched. "Me? Move to Princeton again?"

Narrowing her eyes, Susan set her jaw. "Yeah, back to whether Brennon's godmother and father are. Now that he's been in our custody, we're not giving him up without a fight."

House stood behind Susan and gleefully nodded.

"I have a contract in California!" I moaned.

"After this? They'll be lucky that you don't sue them back to the stone-age." Susan said.

"You think they'll let me out of my contract?"

"Explain to them that they can let you out of your contract or talk to your attorney about their negligence in sending you down there. They'll get the drift."

"But cold weather?" I moaned as Brennon stuck out his arms for Susan.

Picking him up, she grinned. "You owe me this. Suck it up and move back to your loft."

I hadn't been able to dump my loft. It had been on the market for four months with only a few nibbles. My realtor wanted me to sell it for fifty thousand below what I bought it. But, it didn't make sense; my renters paid more than the mortgage and property taxes. So the rent bought the loft in my absence,. And things were looking up the real estate market had started to rebound.

"Susan, are you sure? Are you really able to forgive what I did?"

She rolled her eyes. "Uh, let's not forget you didn't do it alone. The guy with the quick zipper had a role in this. I know you tried and I have to admit that if you'd come home a month ago, I wouldn't have been so forgiving. But the longer you were gone and the more I thought of you spending the rest of your life in a Paraguayan prison, the less important this seemed to be. Besides, I'm getting married. Paul asked me to marry him and I said yes."

I grabbed my chest. "Oh, oh! You're getting married again?"

"Yeah, once I realized that Greg loves you and not me, it made me come to my senses. Paul has been very patient with me and I have to admit, I think I was just holding onto Greg to keep myself from committing to Paul. I was scared to commit. After all, I was committed to my last husband and look where that got me."

I didn't dare remind her that she occasionally committed adultery which didn't help. But I kept my mouth shut. I was grateful that, not only was she going to forgive me, but she was going to marry Paul.

"So, you don't mind Greg and I being together?"

"I'm praying that you let Brennon live with his father although the idea of Greg raising a child makes me pray too."

I hugged her. We stood clinging to each other, grateful to have each other in our lives.

"So, Greg, the ball is in your court." Susan said, turning to give him the evil eye. "You took advantage of a vulnerable woman and she's been raising your bastard child for a year now…okay, a year next week…are you going to step up and make this a family?"

House started backing up. "I want them to live with me."

"That isn't going to cut it. This boy needs a father who's willing to put it all on the line. Will you marry them?"

House recoiled. "Can we try living together first?"

I nodded in support of Greg. "I think we should try being a family first before we start walking down aisles."

Susan shrugged. "I would have thought you'd both want more for your son. Look at those big blue eyes."

We all looked down at Brennon who stopped and stared back, obviously uncomfortable that the adults were quiet and fixated on him. He looked from adult to adult, wondering what he was doing wrong. But, Susan was right. I loved Greg and if I was going to move Brennon across country to be with his father, then his father had to be in it 100%.

I looked over at Greg. "Will you marry me?"

He rolled his eyes and fell back into his chair. "So, you're going to bust my chops?"

"You want me to dismantle our lives for you, now you man up and commit to us or forget it."

"That's unfair!"

"No, Greg, that's life. If you want fair, go to Coney Island."

Greg looked down at Brennon and then back to me. "If that's what it takes to keep you both with me. I'll marry you."

I put my fists on my hips and frowned at him. "Wow, that was romantic. Forget it, it was a bad idea."

Greg's face went from resignation to alarm. "But, if we don't get married you're not going to move back here, are you?"

His obvious reticence hit me and made me realize that bribing him to marry me wasn't a great way to start a marriage. I shrugged. "I think you and I can work out a visitation schedule. I promise that you can see him as often as possible and when he's older he can spend weeks with you during summer and school breaks."

It was dawning on him that I was going to take Brennon home with me to California. Not only was he becoming antsy, but he had a look of apprehension. "Just move here." His voice was controlled, monotone so that he didn't give away what he was feeling. I felt sorry for him. He was quite perplexed.

"Greg, I'm not trying to punish you, but you're right, bribing you to marry me is a lousy thing to do. I'm going home. You come and see us and we'll go from there. I promise that you'll have as much access to Brennon as possible. You need to be a part of his life;I can see that now. I'm absolutely beat. Susan, I have no furniture in the loft, can I stay with you?"

Jumping up, Greg put up his hand. "Whoa, he's staying with me…so that means you're staying with me."

I smiled. "I just wasn't sure if you'd want us."

His face collapsed. "I do want you. I want you here in Princeton."

"Again, I'm tired. I want to table this discussion until I've slept. If I'm going to sleep at your place, I need to turn my rental car in and take a cab to your place. I'll need your key. I'll leave Brennon with you--I need sleep."

With no hesitation, I had the key and after running my errands, I managed to crawl into the unmade bed around noon. The smell on the pillow was all Greg. It triggered some primal response in me, a need I hadn't let myself feel for a long time. For some reason, I felt safe in that bed. I slept until four, getting up and going out to the living room to wait for Greg and Brennon to get home. Around four-thirty, I heard a fumbling at the door as it opened. He had a couple of bags in his left hand as he carried a diaper bag over one shoulder, Brennon under the other arm and his cane in his right hand. It was quite a feat for a disabled man.

"I come bearing Thai…Brennon's favorite." He said, holding up the bags after putting Brennon down.

Brennon came over to me and crawled up to say something which for a minute sounded like gibberish, but then I realized there were some real words, like 'dog' as he held up a stuff animal for me. I smiled to him as I asked, "Thai is his favorite?"

"He loves coconut. Loves it."

I sat and listened to my son talk. He knew Daddy, eat, drink, dog, cat, bed, bath, etc. In just two months his vocabulary had exploded and I wasn't there to hear it. It was killing me. After dinner we played with Brennon while I told Greg about my captivity. Around eight, Brennon went to sleep and House sat in the corner of the sofa, about two feet from me. His long arm reached over, scooped me up and brought me to that sturdy chest of his. The smell of him was enough to make every ounce of me ache for him.

"I missed you." I told him.

"You had me worried. I thought I was going to have hire the 'A Team' to come get you. How much do you think one of those Mr. T necklaces would have put me back?"

"It was always a given that they would let me go. At least that's what the Ambassador kept telling me on a weekly basis."

"Why didn't you tell me about Bren?"

"Because you made it clear how you felt about kids."

He grimaced. "Christ, there's kids and then there's _your own _kid. Yeah, I'm not that enthusiastic about being a Dad. I have doubts about how good I'll be. But, I am his Dad. Someone has to teach him how to surf for porn and judge a good single malt. You're lousy at it."

I chuckled. "Oh, Greg. We're screwed, aren't we? You can't even tell me you love me; you don't really want to be a father but are doing it by default, and I'm lonely. I want someone in my life that I can share it with. Not only are we emotionally challenged, we're geographically challenged."

"Bull. All of this could be solved by you moving back here."

"Why me? Why not you?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know why. My reputation in California is even worse than on the east coast. I'd never work."

"Not true. You could work as a consultant…people would fly you to your patients…you'd make more money."

"I need a team. I have to have people to bounce my theories off of."

I was silent. Wilson had told me this before and Greg was just confirming it. Not wanting to admit it, I realized that Princeton had to be where we lived if we all wanted to be together. But, I didn't want to give up California and my position as head of cardiology without know if Greg was going to tire of being a father and dump us.

Greg slid down a little so that we were almost level with each other. His leg slid over my thigh as his hand went up the back of my shirt. He undid my bra and started to fondle my breast, pinching my nipple and then rubbing it. "They're bigger than before."

"They've been rode hard and put away for six months. Bren was really big on breast milk." I could feel his erection nudging my thigh causing every nerve ending in my groin to ache for him. "Your friend wants to play."

"Yeah, he does. Want to take this back to the bedroom?"

"But Bren is back there!"

"He's one year old, he's not going to remember Mom and Dad playing hide the sausage."

"Let's just stay here."

"Birth control?"

"Not unless a daily dose of margaritas count."

House sighed and got up off the couch, making his way back to his bedroom. I heard a drawer open and shut and heard him making his way out to the living room. In the meantime, I had stripped everything off my body except my bikini panties. I struck a pose and waited.

"Holy moley! Damn, you look good. More curves, but in a good way. I don't know if I'm just really horny or you're just really hot, but I'm glad I brought three rubbers with me."

"Three?"

"And say hello to my little friend." He held up a little blue pill.

"Viagra? Greg, judging from the bulge, you don't need Viagra."

"Not yet, but I don't think we'll get through three rubbers without it."

"And we're trying for three?"

"I am. I don't about you."

"Get your pants off now." I said.

He dropped his pants and a glistening pink penis peeked out from the slit in his boxers. I pulled the boxers off and since my mouth was the perfect height, I slipped it as far over the erection as I could without gagging.

"Ahhh…" He closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly back while putting his hands gently on my head. He tasted salty and the semen on the head of his penis felt slippery on my tongue. I put my hand at the base of his penis and as I started to bob up and down, I pumped with my hand until I could feel his whole body tense. I knew if I didn't stop he was going to come in my mouth. I think he would have enjoyed it, but I wanted his thick throbbing organ between my thighs. I backed off a little and stroked his balls before reclining back on the leather sofa.

Greg grabbed his shirt and motioned for me to put it under my butt. Laughing at his act of domesticity, I pulled off my panties and sat my butt on the shirt. He grabbed a condom and ripped it open, stepping over to my end of the couch he handed me the rubber.

"You want me to do the favors?" I grinned as I began to unroll the condom along the deep blue vein that throbbed along his staff.

He held it in his hand and admired it before crawling between my legs. Just the feel of his warm skin brushing against the inside of my thighs made me wet for him. He pushed himself up with his arms to adjust himself to our position on the sofa. Staring up, I was struck by how handsome he was, even at fifty-two. The hair was thinning on top, the lines were deeper, but any woman would be proud to show him off.

"Admiring my physique?"

I chuckled. "As a matter of fact, I was. I was just thinking how much I want that erection you're holding inside of me."

"Oh, I think I can accommodate you."

He placed his penis at the sensitive mouth of my opening and pushed slowly inside until only the head was inside. He leaned in and kissed me, his tongue mimicking his dick. His hands tickled their way up from my hips to my breasts where he pushed them and cuddled them and then sucked them both, his tongue encircling my nipple until I thought I would squeal.

"Oh, God, Greg, fuck me. Fuck me hard."

It must have been my words because he moaned and then pushed up deep inside of me until I felt him at the top. Slowly pulling back , he did it again and again. Slow and then fast, slow and then hard.

"Yes, yes, yes. Faster, harder, faster."

He pulled a pillow from under my head and put it under the shirt, pushing my butt up to give him leverage. Then he repositioned himself and started to slide in and out, the wetness making a sucking sound. The sound of his balls and groin hitting against me as he pounded inside of me was so hot, I started thrusting up to take all of him inside of me. There was a sheen of sweat forming between us. I'm not sure who was grunting or moaning louder but I'm sure we must have sounded like animals fucking.

"You're tight and wet, my two favorite things. I'm going to fuck you back to Sunday." He whispered.

I hadn't expected it, but when he said that, I started coming like a fast approaching train. I screamed out so loud that I think I surprised him. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. I'm coming. Oh, God, faster, faster."

He obliged by speeding up, his face scrunched up as he expended all the energy he had in keeping my orgasm rolling. I thought I was dying it was so intense. It was radiating not just from my clitoris, but my vagina too. I'd never had a vaginal orgasm, but I could feel rolling waves of pleasure with every contraction around his hard organ.

He stopped; his mouth opening but no sound coming out. Eyes clenched together, Greg let go with three or four short strokes and then he let out the sound of a wounded lion, roaring as he picked up speed. He stopped, thrust twice and then collapsed.

He swallowed hard. "My heart was racing and I missed a few beats."

"Angina? I asked, worried that I may have caused stress induced arrhythmia . "Are you okay?"

"I'm fucking marvelous." He pushed off and slid down to the end of my feet, sitting but leaning towards me. Taking his index finger he gently ran it down my cleft. "You don't shave?"

"Au natural."

"Susan—"

I held up a hand. "No, Greg, no discussion about Susan's sexual prowess or genitals."

He stopped and nodded. "Sorry, you're right. I was just going to say that I like it au natural, especially right now." He put his hand on my pubis and his fingers through my hair.

I looked down at his wilted willy and the rubber that hung off it like a tired balloon. "Jesus, you shot your wad."

He looked down, there was a good inch of semen in the tip. Grinning like he just won the lotto he wiggled his eyebrows. "Sorry, I know you wanted this inside you. I know how much you like my babies."

"Believe me, one is enough. Seriously, that's a lot of little men."

"Yeah, it's been awhile since they've tangoed." He got up and walked towards the bathroom to dispose of the rubber. I stood up, grabbed the slightly damp shirt and followed him.

Throwing the shirt in the hamper, I put my arms around him and leaned my head on his back. He turned in my arms and hugged me back, stroking my hair and kissing the crown of my head.

Then he stopped and waited until I was completely still, he said quietly, "I'll quit. I'll move to San Diego and we'll get married."

I felt the blood leave my head. Sitting down on the toilet lid, I soon discovered my mouth was open.

"I don't want to live without you." He continued.

"Greg, are you sure? What about your job?"

He nodded. "I'll figure something out."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**Finishing Touches**

"Do you really think he'll pull this off?" House asked.

Susan looked down at the two year old and shook her head. "He knows to head towards Mommy and Daddy. The rings are tied on the pillow, what could go wrong?"

"He's been really ornery lately." House said as he watched the toddler playing with the toys they had brought along.

"Well, he looks really cute in his faux tux."

"You look beautiful, that color suits you." House said as he eyed her up and down.

"Yeah, well I always did look good in purple. I'm going to take him with me so you can finish up down here. I think you and James both look very handsome in your Armani's."

"You didn't have to buy us Armani tuxes."

"Your old one was crap and you know it. Now I've got to go." Susan leaned in and gave House a kiss on his cheek before leaving the small paneled room next to the ballroom. She crossed the hall to the other side and took the elevator to the tenth floor with Brennon hanging on and babbling to her about going up in the elevator. Opening the door to room 1031, she let go of Brennon's hand so he could run to his mother who sat in her slip in front of the vanity, arms opened to hug him.

"How's my big boy?"

"Daddy is here, you have to take the vator."

"I know! You take the elevator down to see him. We'll see him in twenty minutes. You look so handsome!"

Brennon looked down at his chest and pulled on the elastic bow tie around his neck. He was wearing a top that had a couple of flaps made to look like he was wearing a tux and an elastic bow tie with elastic waisted black pants that had a satin stripe down the side. The entire outfit easily pulled over the toddler's head like a t-shirt and over his pull ups. Brennon was almost potty trained, but the occasional accident happened and so today he was wearing diaper pull ups 'just in case'.

Carrying the dress in, Susan laid it down on the bed and turned to Finley. "I never thought I'd see you get married. And here you are, marrying Greg, raising Brennon and heading your own cardiology department…you've done good, girl."

Finley stood up and gave Susan a gentle hug, nothing to energetic, Finley needed to keep from messing her makeup and hair. "I think I'm ready to put it on."

The nanny came in and clapped when she saw Finley standing in her Parisian Cymbeline Wedding Dress. "You're beautiful!"

"Thank you!" Fin said as Brennon threw himself into his mother's skirt over and over. "Bren, this isn't a pile of pillows; it's Mommy's dress. Ellen, can you get him for me and take him downstairs to play in his Dad's dressing room until he's needed? It shouldn't be too long now."

"Sure, Dr. Doyle." Ellen plucked a reluctant Brennon from his mother's train and took him downstairs, back to his father's dressing room.

"I just rescued poor Bren from the den of iniquity. I brought him up here so Greg could finish up." Susan said as she watched Brennon leave.

"Well Greg has the pillow with the rings so he has to go downstairs; we're about to start." Fin said as she continued to primp in the mirror.

"Finley, you look so beautiful, you make a gorgeous bride."

"For a forty year old first timer?"

"Yeah. Well, you were the one who insisted that you two live together for awhile. There were a few times I didn't think we'd get here. But here we are and you're so stunning."

"You looked really lovely at your wedding too."

She laughed. "What do you mean? It was Vegas, I wore a _cocktail _dress"

"Still, your cocktail dress cost more than my designer wedding gown."

"Come on, we better get your veil on and then get you downstairs." Susan got up and placed the comb for the veil in Fin's soft strawberry blonde hair which she had grown so that she could wear it up. "Okay, sweetie, time to get your final layer of lipstick on, grab your bouquet and then we'll make our way downstairs. "

Spraying Marc Jacobs over her cleavage and neck, Fin straightened up and grabbed her train. Susan handed her the bouquet and they began the walk down to the ballroom. Susan was Finley's maid of honor and her cousin, Cally , was her bridesmaid. Susan was in purple and Cally in lilac. Standing outside the doors leading into the ballroom where a non-denominational minister waited to marry them, Fin nodded to her brother, Theodore Doyle, and smiled.

"How do I look?"

"Fantastic. Greg better appreciate what he's getting. You're a knock out."

"Thanks bro."

"Are you ready?"

Finley nodded. Susan gave a wave to one of the ushers who notified the band. They struck up, _And I Love Her, _by McCartney and Lennon. Brennon, who was supposed to be staged behind the last pew with the pillow and rings, was supposed to make his way down the aisle first. Finley watched through the crack where the door hinged so that she could see her son carry the pillow to James Wilson. There was a loud, "Brennon!" and then a squeal as Brennon ran wildly halfway down the aisle, put the pillow down and ripped off his tux shirt over his head, throwing it like a lasso. It landed at the feet of Thirteen as she sat on the aisle in one of the pews.

The entire churched roared with laughter as Brennon picked up the pillow and carried it towards his father looking like a miniature Chippendale dancer with the bowtie and black pants still on. Fin was furious until she saw House roaring with laughter, something Fin had never seen. Then it dawned on her that this was something they would talk about for years, probably using it to tease Brennon when he was in high school. The videographer was having a blast filming Brennon and the audience's reaction. Brennon danced up to his father and handed the pillow up high above his head. House picked Brennon up instead of taking the pillow from him and blew a raspberry on his tummy before putting the laughing toddler down. There was more laughter. Wilson took the pillow and the nanny, now running down the side of the church to grab Brennon, managed to corral him and pinned the squirming child on her lap as she tried several times to get the tux shirt back on the happily free Brennon.

Cally made her way down the aisle and then Susan. When Teddy and Finley lined up to walk down the aisle, Finley got her first good look at the ballroom draped in creams and gold, with just enough purple to make a splash but not overwhelm the room. It was spectacular, looking incredibly opulent and sophisticated. There were candelabras all the way down the aisle and candles lighting up the chandeliers. The light danced around the room in a romantic glow. Looking forward she saw House, standing tall in his tux, looking handsome and amused until he saw her. A sly, sensual smile spread across his lips, but she doubted anyone else would notice it but her. Standing next to House was Wilson and Chase. The ushers were Taub, Foreman and Finley's other brother, Sean. Finley's sister, Katherine hadn't been able to make it. She suffered from agoraphobia and couldn't overcome her fear to step outside her house.

When they reached the altar, Finley saw the nanny wrestling with Brennon out of the corner of her eye. They were in the first pew and she was still trying to put the shirt on, but he was refusing. Resisting the urge to go over and take control, Finley concentrated on going forward. House stepped down, trying desperately to control his laughter and took her hands.

Finley rolled her eyes. "Uh, you still have the ceremony to get through, okay?"

He nodded, but tears of laughter were in his eyes and those of everyone around him. House stage whispered out of the corner of his mouth for everyone to hear, "He reminded me of John Candy and Patrick Swayze in that SNL skit."

The audience began laughing again. Finley turned around and looked at them with a disapproving eye. It just made them laugh harder. When she turned back, the minister had given in and was laughing too. Finley shook her head, handed the bouquet to Susan, walked over, picked up her semi-nude son and took him with her back to the altar. She turned around to show the audience and everyone clapped for him, causing him to suddenly become shy and bury his head in his mother' s shoulder.

"Now, Greg, can we get married?"

"Nothing I'd like better. Can't start drinking until we've promised we'll never screw around on each other."

Susan piped up, "Yeah? Good luck on that one."

More laughter. Twenty minutes later there was one sleeping toddler, his head on his mother's bare shoulder, and the minister announcing, "By the power invested in me and by the laws of the state of New Jersey, I now pronounce you man and wife. Greg, you may kiss your wife and son."

He did.

After a large steak and lobster dinner for 160, cake cutting and dancing, House caught Finley yawning. When the night was over, they went home to Finley's loft, Susan taking Brennon with her. After disembarking from the elevator, House suggested that Finley carry him over the threshold.

"Sorry honey, but, I sacrificed my home, my friends and my career to come back to Princeton, I'm not going to sacrifice my back."

House hugged her and pulled her inside the door. "Stop your moaning. Your friend is here, your career has been enhanced by moving back and you already had a home waiting for you…now just what did you sacrifice?"

She grinned. "Marrying you? I sacrificed my sanity."

THE END

**Dear Readers. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks, Kim Brogan**


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